Transparency
by darkhuntress13
Summary: After receiving a harsh emotional blow, Gilbert is wondering if he really belongs anywhere. Looking for somewhere to disappear for a while, he finds himself in Canada. Mathew is not used to people seeking him out, but when Gilbert arrives, he finds a friend to cure his loneliness and, just maybe, much more… PruCan, human names used (obviously) (now edited!)
1. Prologue: Catalyst

Summary: After receiving a harsh emotional blow, Gilbert is wondering if he really belongs anywhere. Looking for somewhere to disappear for a while, he finds himself in Canada. Mathew is not used to people seeking him out, but when Gilbert arrives, he finds a friend to cure his loneliness and, just maybe, much more… PruCan, Human Names used (obviously)

Prologue: Catalyst

Roderich Edelstein was at his wits end. For the past month, he had put up with constant chatter, nonstop gruffs and incessant cackling. He had cleaned spaces in his house he had no idea could get dirty. He went from an aristocrat to a maid/cook/parent for an unwelcome house guest. But he could handle all that. Roderich was a nation, much stronger than a mere human. He could put up with annoying, obnoxious presences. No, it wasn't Gilbert Beilschmidt's upkeep that was making him go insane.

It was that look.

The look the personification of the now dissolved Kingdom of Prussia kept sending him when he thought Roderich wasn't looking made the Austrian nation's eye twitch. It took two weeks to understand why he felt strange when Gilbert suddenly went silent; it sure wasn't because he enjoyed the man's narcissistic tone. Then, when facing the antique silver mirror above his fireplace, he looked up when his hair rose in the wake of Gilbert's silence and saw something that deeply disturbed him. Prussia's visage was one of intense longing, showing an unfulfilled need that had been denied for too long.

And he was looking at Austria.

What was troubling for the nation was not the sexual nature of the gaze; it was the unspoken devotion that made his skin crawl. It was quite clear that Gilbert loved him and had loved him for some time now. Roderich could entertain the idea of having sex with Gilbert. Indeed, he had thought about it more than once (and, truly, you had to be more straight than Roderich to _not_ fantasize about a man that hot), but any passion Roderich felt for Gilbert was cooled the second the Prussian opened his mouth. To entertain the thought of having something more with Gilbert other than disgusted tolerance and occasional lust… the Austrian shivered just thinking about it. To have to deal with the man's ego for a month was trying enough but for the rest of his life… no. Just, no.

But Roderich did have a heart. He's seen a side of Gilbert that was always hidden beneath the proclamations of 'awesomeness' and the loud antics. As a week went by, Roderich began to see the interruptions of his piano playing and the outrageous messes as desire for attention from someone that matters (_No one could possibly be that unintentionally annoying_, Roderich thought, forgetting Feliciano). At first, he became more tolerant of Prussia's actions out of pity; Roderich understood unrequited love all too well.

Unfortunately, the Prussian seemed to take the decrease in protestations as encouragement and began to get a bit touchy. It started off as a brush of an arm in the kitchen, then a light touch of fingers when they walked somewhere together. After a week, Prussia was outright hugging him when he entered a room, ignoring the way the Austrian stiffened every time he did so. Roderich did not want to lead Gilbert on. This had to stop, but in a dignified way, Roderich decided.

Of 'course, he forgot who exactly he was dealing with.

*break*

"Hey, Specs," Gilbert said, striding across the music room to where Roderich was playing Beethoven's 5th. His hands were slightly shaking as he quietly draped himself over the Austrian's shoulders. He was so happy to finally be able to touch the man he loved for centuries, so relieved to have some release to the internal struggle he has fought for so long that Gilbert failed to notice the silence in the room as Roderich ceased to play. This was a sign that something was greatly troubling the Austrian, if he could no longer bring himself to play the German (not Austrian, no matter what Roderich told himself) composer's music. But Gilbert was so focused on what he was going to attempt to do that he was oblivious to the Austrian's mood. As he silently inhaled the scent of Roderich's mahogany hair, he said earnestly, "I need to talk to you."

"What now, Gilbert?" Roderich was on the edge. He had waited too long to tell Gilbert that he didn't return his feelings and was still agitated from cleaning up the aftermath of the Prussian's attempt to cook breakfast. The tension in his body and mind only became higher when he noted the serious tone in Prussia's voice. He was ready to snap.

Gilbert was never good with words. Whenever he tried to express his actual feelings, he ended up spitting out some bullshit about how awesome he was. Don't get it twisted: Gilbert was awesome and he knew it. But he always used his ego as a mask for his intelligence and feelings, living by the idea that the more distance he kept from others, the less likely they would be able to hurt him. Gilbert's attitude certainly helped him create an empire for his brother in the 1800s. Even Francis, one of his best friends, had underestimated him when they went to war. But now he wanted the man sitting stiffly in his arms to understand him better than anyone. So, instead of speaking, he acted.

The kiss was so innocent and sweet that it sent Roderich into shock for a moment. The contrast between Gilbert obnoxiousness not a minute ago and the sentiment behind that kiss, placed so lovingly at the corner of his mouth, was jarring. It also pushed the aristocrat, poised to snap, over the edge.

Later, he would say that he blacked out. Later, he would say that the Prussian had it coming. Later, he would be ashamed. Later, he would hate himself, just a little. Later, Roderich would be relieved that it was finally over.

Breath left Gilbert in a rush as an elbow hit his solar plexus. Stumbling back, he gasped in some breath, just enough to say, "Oh, come on, Specs. Don't be-"

Gilbert didn't see the fist coming in a fierce right hook until it was too late to avoid it and only had enough time (and practice fighting) to angle his body so that it hit his shoulder instead of his temple. The blow sent shock waves down his arm, betraying the quiet strength of the musician. Shocked at the display of violence, Gilbert backed up, automatically falling into a fighting stance. It took him a second to remember who he was fighting, causing him to drop his guard. He could never hurt Roderich, Gilbert acknowledged. _Of 'course,_ Gilbert thought to himself as he dodged another punch, _I'm not going to let myself get beaten either._

Roderich was shaking with long suppressed rage he wasn't even aware of until now. It got through his brain that he was never going to hit the nation that once lived on war after a few more physical attempts of violence. So Roderich used the words that Gilbert was so horrible at expressing to harm him more than his fists ever could.

"How _dare_ you touch me? How could you, a kingdom without a nation, a freak of nature, think you were worthy of touching me?" Roderich took in Prussia's stricken expression and laughed. "Don't like to be reminded how far you've fallen, do you? Or are you surprised by my animosity towards you? You shouldn't be, considering how I have only ever shown you the disgust I feel in your presence."

Prussia stumbled, thrown by the hatred in Roderich's voice and bespeckled violet eyes, forgetting to mask his face with arrogance at the sight of the often pale face flushed. How had he not seen this? Austria continued, sadistically loving the growing pain in the other's eyes, walking towards the man. His lip curled in distaste as he scoffed. "What? You thought that I would actually be able to love you back? You think my standards so low as to stoop to your level? Please."

On some level of consciousness, Roderich told himself to stop, that he was being too harsh and not entirely truthful. He fought himself to recall civility, but his rage managed to bite out one last sentence. Leaning into the man, he snarled, "I would have been happier than I am now if you had died with your nation."

Prussia reacted like he had been slapped, flinching away from the Austrian as tears stung his red eyes. He didn't think, indeed couldn't think. Gilbert ran out of the room, missing the shocked expression of the Austrian. Roderich, now silent, sunk to his knees, wondering what he had just done to the only one who had ever selflessly loved him.

*break*

Gilbert ended up in the room that he had been staying in for the past month. He saw his clothes strewn about the floor, obscuring the crimson carpet that matched his eyes. His eyes flew the yet unmade bed, where he had thought for hours over how he would confess his feelings for Roderich, about how happy they would be together when he accepted him. So many thoughts and moments that he shared with Roderich flew threw his mind, torturing him with their togetherness. It was too much.

Collapsing as his knees gave out, Gilbert gasped at the sudden pain in his chest threatening to crush him. _So heavy,_ he thought as his black dots started to dance in his vision. _Can't breathe._

A small chirp brought him back to himself and reminded him how to breathe. A flash of yellow flew towards the albino, the cheerful color of the bird clashing with the anguish of its master. But, as a part of Gilbert's public face, the nation conjured a slight smirk for his pet, rebuilding his mask and suppressing his feelings. He had taught himself long ago how to be numb when things got too hard; it was how he survived all his wars, loneliness and the loss of his nation. The numbness was a shield that would allow him to function and he cowered behind it.

"Hey, Gilbird," he said, conjuring a cocky tone from the depths of his being. He was a survivor, dammit. Fuck everyone who thought otherwise. "Let's blow this joint. It's become far too unawesome to contain my awesomeness." The bird chirped and flew up to nestle in his master's silver hair.

Gilbert didn't bother with packing his clothes. His breakdown moments ago told him that he would never wear the clothes in here again. He grabbed his wallet, passport, extra cash, and leather jacket and then left the room.

He walked through the opulent house without really seeing it, focused on reaching the front door with single minded determination. Movement out the corner of his eye stopped him, turning him to face his reflection in the same silver mirror that betrayed him only two weeks ago.

Gilbert took in his leanly muscled frame, clothed in a black t-shirt and jeans that hugged him just right. In one pale hand was his wallet and passport while the other held the jacket loosely at his side. What would strike others as a frightening combination of red eyes and silver hair was natural for him. _Of 'course, _he thought bitterly to himself, looking at his silver hair as Roderich's words echoed in his mind_, I had to inherit a mutation of albinism on top of the unusualness of the condition itself._ The last thing he noticed about himself was the shininess of his face. Transferring the jacket to his other arm, he tentatively touched his cheek. It wasn't until then that he noticed he was crying.

Blinking at himself, Gilbert wiped away the moisture and continued towards the door. He put on his jacket and boots as he pocketed his keys and other essentials. Gilbird moved to his shoulder as Prussia put on his black riding helmet. Opening the door to a bright, sunny day, Gilbert cursed. _Why is it that every day I feel like shit the weather is beautiful?_

Shaking off bitterness towards the weather, he walked to his black-on-black Ducati Streetfighter. The model was a few years old, but she rode like a dream. Swinging his leg over the bike, Gilbert spoke to his avian companion. "Meet me at West's house, Gilbird."

The little bird chirped then zoomed away, far faster than any bird should be able to. Smirking, Gilbert started up the bike, enjoying the vibrations and noise coming from the machine, completely unaware of the Austrian running through his house at the noise. After revving the engine once, Gilbert sped through the gate of the Austrian's estate, unable to hear his name being called regretfully by the man who broke his heart.

Prussia did not look back.

A/N: My first chapter of my first story! ^_^ Please review and be honest. I would like to improve…

For any PruAus fans, I'm sorry but it had to be done for the rest of the story line. (I also support PruAus just not for this story).

The story is not pre-written/ this was a spur of the moment kind of thing/ etc etc. So updates may be sporadic but, if I get good feedback (or any really) I will update more frequently. I'm just taking 20 credit hours and…yeah.

Until next time,

darkhuntress13


	2. Ch1: Disappearing Act

I do not nor will I ever own Hetalia. It's just one of life's little truths… *sigh*

Ch. 1: Disappearing Act

It wasn't until Gilbert stopped to get some gas that he noticed that he forgot his phone in the rush to get the hell out of dodge. He shrugged at the realization. He didn't feel like talking to anyone anyway. _Besides,_ he thought, getting back on the road, _why would anyone call me?_

Everyone was busy having lives. Tony was with that sour Italian bastard. Francis was probably hosting a party. West had Feliciano to deal with. Alistair was probably bugging Arthur. Matthias was probably harassing Lukas or Berwald. Roderich… well, he never called him. _Who, indeed, would possibly call me?_

For the rest of the six hour trip from Vienna to Berlin (Gilbert truly thought the speed limit signs were mere suggestions), Prussia did his best not to think about anything, especially not what just happened. He took in the speeding scenery, the feel of the road disappearing behind him and the rumble of his bike. It was almost like he was meditating, riding his bike. He never felt so calm, yet so alive, as when he zoomed down an empty highway in the open air. It was freeing.

Of 'course, it ended far too soon. It was evening by the time Gilbert pulled up to his brother's home. The large brick house was just far enough outside of Berlin proper to avoid crowding so common in the city, yet still a commutable distance to the capital. Parking the Streetfighter next to Ludwig's Ducati Monster, Gilbert walked into the house smelling fresh pasta and hearing Feliciano's puttering from the kitchen. Gilbert smiled slightly at the normalcy of his brother's home before loudly announcing, "The awesome me has arrived!"

There was a crash from the kitchen that ended quickly yet was followed by heavy, hurried steps from upstairs. Gilbert chuckled quietly to himself, rushing to the kitchen to check on his brother's partner. "Feli, you okay? Cause it would be completely unawesome if you were hurt."

North Italy looked up with his eyes almost closed in that funny way of his and his light brown hair a little awry... "Ve~, I'm okay, Gilbert." Beside him were a broken plate and a clean cast iron pan that reminded Gilbert of the one Hungary liked to wave around. Italy got up and gave his (basically) brother-in-law a hug that made Prussia pat his head. "Welcome home!"

"Feliciano, are you okay? Is anything broken? Is there a mess?" In charged the younger German brother with his priorities in order. Prussia doubted that he was yet noticed as Germany's eyes frantically scanned the man he loved for injuries.

"Ve~, I'm okay, Luddy. And look: I only broke one plate and I didn't even make that big of a mess! Ooooh, the pasta's ready, too!"

Content that Feli was okay, Ludwig finally looked at the man who raised him. It always amused Gilbert how serious he looked with his light blue eyes and slicked back blonde hair. It's hard to take your brother completely seriously when you're the one who potty trained him. "Hallo, bruder."

"Hey, West. What's up?" The younger German bent his massive body slightly to get the broom to sweep up the plate while Gilbert, in an impulse to be useful cleaning for once, picked up the pot.

"I spoke to Roderich."

That froze the Prussian's actions, but only for a second. _A little blunt, West…_ He forced a teasing light into his eyes as he cackled. "Kesesesese, and how is Specs doin'? Missing me already?"

"Not exact-"

"How is Mr. Austria doing? Does he want to come visit? It's been a while since I've seen him. We should invite him over, Luddy," Feliciano interrupted while plating the pasta. "Ve~ you're lucky, Gilbert. I made just enough for three!"

"Thanks, Feli. You're awesome. I'm a little tired from my ride over, so I'm gonna go eat downstairs, okay?"

Ludwig narrowed his eyes, but Feliciano was oblivious to the fraternal exchanges. "Sure. Tell me if you like it!"

Taking his plate, Gilbert quickly exited the room, saying, "You're cooking is always awesome, Feli. However, I think West is feeling a little unawesome. Can you give him a hug for me? He likes you better."

"Bruder-"

"Ve~, you should always tell me when you need some hug therapy, Luddy!"

Ludwig sighed as he heard the basement door click shut and lock as his partner latched on to him. He hugged the Italian back, assuring him that he was okay, knowing that he had been thwarted for the moment. But he had already set a trap that was just waiting to be sprung.

*break*

Gilbert released a sigh of relief as he successful avoided his brother and got food out of the deal. He had been too nervous to eat breakfast that morning and his cooking attempt was more for… Plus he had been too zoned out to eat on the road, so Feliciano could not have better timing.

Sitting on his bed, Gilbert stared at the flag hanging on the wall that had once represented his nation. Now it mocked him. _You don't like to be reminded how far you've fallen, do you?_

Gilbert shoveled the food into his mouth, barely tasting the delicious pasta. He needed a distraction that didn't involve an empty stomach, so the food was really a means to an end. Putting his plate on the dark wood of his night stand, he walked over to the mini-fridge he kept specifically for his stash of beer. After Ludwig complained that he drank all the beer, the Prussian decided that he would buy his own just to avoid hearing his bother lecture him for the twenty-one millionth time. Shit got old.

Gilbert stove towards the door of the fridge with the drive of a druggie walking towards his next hit. Ripping back the door, he stared incomprehensively at the empty shelves. He had at least 12 bottles in here when he left. _Da fuck…_

There was a sticky note on the top shelf. Bringing the offending object close to his face, he scanned the oh-so-familiar neat script. 'Bruder, we need to talk. Ludwig.'

_He. Messed. With. My. Beer. _

Under the haze of impotent rage, Gilbert understood that this was Ludwig's way of telling him he was serious. But there were a very few things that were sacred to the Prussian: his flag and his beer. His friends were up there too, but with some exceptions (if someone messed with his friends he would make fun of them then help get revenge). But that wasn't the point. Ludwig knew how important beer was. Then he messed with it.

Gilbert was halfway up the stairs when he stopped and used his brain for a second. _Okay, _he reasoned._ West wants to talk about something I wish to avoid. If I storm up there he would just use his monster arms to hold me captive until I start talking for need of the bathroom. Unawesome clever bastard. _

An idea occurred to Gilbert that would solve his problems at the source. He couldn't talk if he wasn't there. _You may be clever, West, but you forget who raised you to be so smart._

There was a soft clicking at the window to his right. Reaching over to open it, Gilbird flew in with ruffled feathers and alighted on his master's shoulder. "We're going on an adventure, Gilbird. Kesesesese, it's time to disappear."

*break*

Prussia was blasting music in an attempt to piss Ludwig off while packing a medium sized backpack that would be easy to carry on his bike. Passport, money, toothbrush, other toiletries, underwear, Gilbird stuff… now all he needed was clothes. The one problem was… he didn't know where he was going yet and, being as it was late September, he really needed to consider this in his packing. While he could always buy more clothes later, he needed to have clothes for at least a few days.

"What's our destination, Gilbird?" Prussia mused out loud. "I can't go to Tony's or Francy-pants; those are the first places West will look. The same applies to Alistair and Matthias. Kiku is also out and I actually prefer to go somewhere that speaks German or English since my French and Spanish is a bit rusty…"

Gilbird chirped and flew over to the silver globe that Russian creeper had given Gilbert when he left his oh-so-tender care in 1989. He would have tossed it if he didn't like it so much. It was old enough to still have Prussia on the map so he kept it for sentimental reasons (globes with his nation on it were exceedingly rare). Gilbird chirped again as he landed on the silver axis that held the globe then pecked a nation near the top. "Gilbird, there is no way in hell I'm going back to…"

It wasn't Russia that his little companion picked. No, it was a place almost as large, but so much better to disappear in (and without the presence of Braginski *shiver*). "We're packing warm, Gilbird. Let's make a new friend."

*break*

It was midnight when Gilbert emerged from the basement. Gilbird left for Scotland, Gilbert's chosen point of departure, hours ago. Alistair knew how to keep a secret and loved mischief even more than Prussia. Gilbert trusted his friend to stay quiet.

Leaving a note for West under a tomato left on the counter, Gilbert did his best to ignore the creaking noises coming from upstairs. While he had timed his departure for this (Ludwig was pretty distracted at that point), that did not mean that he wanted to hear his brother doing the deed.

"Ludwig…!" Feliciano shouted, causing Prussia to hasten his retreat. _Do not want to hear this…_

"You're mine, Feliciano," Ludwig said in an uncharacteristic display of passion (though with the typical amount of possessiveness). The next creek was accompanied with a series of bangs. "_Mine_. Say it."

The response was immediate. "I'm yours, Ludwig, only yours," Feliciano moaned. "And you're mine. Forever… "

It took all of Prussia's effort not to slam the door to the garage in desperation to block out the sounds. But the damage was done. Prussia pushed his bike out of the garage and down the drive way (it was quieter this way), hearing those words, that affirmation of _belonging_, race through his head. Putting on his helmet, Gilbert could not help but long for that love, that certainty that someone loved him, needed him, more than anything. It was like rubbing salt into the fresh wound Roderich left. He would survive to see this wound become just another scar, like the dozens that decorated his body. But, for now, it burned _so much_, only to be drowned by the calm of riding west towards his escape. For some time, even if it was just a few hours, Gilbert could forget what he knew he could never have.

A/N: Ch. 1 is here!

Okay, so I decided to give each chapter a song to go along with it! (Note: I own none of these songs…-_-)

Prologue: can't decide between "What Hurts the Most" by Cascada or "Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri

Ch.1: "Whisper" by Evanescence

BTW, Alistair is Scotland! Woohoo.

over and out

darkhuntress13


	3. Ch 2: Lost and Found

I do not own Hetalia. If I did it would be rated MA for more than just swearing and innuendos…

We finally meet Canada (towards the end), Woohoo!

Ch. 2: Lost and Found

Ludwig walked down to the kitchen as quietly as his large body would allow. It was 7:30 in the morning and it was time for his morning cup of coffee. Feliciano was still knocked out, tired from their nightly… activities and a tendency to sleep too much. Ludwig had been waking up at 7 A.M. for as long as he could remember. There was always something that had to be done. Before he connected to Feliciano during the Great War, he found himself with some leisure time for reading books or listening to music. Now it was all he could do to finish the bare minimum of tasks with Feliciano in his life. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Of 'course, Feliciano required more energy to deal with than running his nation, so a morning cup of coffee had been added to his routine during the inter-war years. Ludwig wouldn't say he was addicted… just that he was much 'grumpier' (as Feliciano would say) without it. And no one liked to be around a grumpy Germany, so other nations had taken to sending the blonde nation gourmet coffee beans to keep him well stocked.

Pressing the button on the coffee machine to begin the brewing process (Germany had prepared the beans last night), he noticed the large tomato on the counter next to the fridge. Sighing, Ludwig replaced the fruit in the bowl in the center of the isle, not noticing the small note previously obscured until he turned around. Frowning, he picked up the sticky note and recognized the messy script. It wasn't as bad as Feliciano's (so bad he had deemed it 'idiot' instead of English), but it was sloppy and rushed. Gilbert.

'West. You messed with my beer. That is a violation of the Code of German Brothers and this makes you completely unawesome. I'm heading to Spain. Be back when I'll be back. Your brother, King of Awesomeness. P.S. Forget whatever Specs said. I'm awesome and always will be.'

Ludwig shook his head, grasping his now ready cup of coffee. He knew that his brother was anything but fine. Ludwig caught the flash of pain in Gilbert's eyes and his hesitation when he mentioned Roderich the night before. Gilbert avoided him last night, even after he discovered his beer was missing. That alone told him how serious the situation was. Ludwig needed to call Antonio to give him a heads up about the state his brother was in. Gilbert didn't have to talk to him, but he needed to talk to someone, dammit. Antonio would do.

Ludwig was halfway to the phone when he remembered the time. If anything, Spain and South Italy were worse than Feliciano when it came to sleeping in. Shaking his head, Ludwig went upstairs to his office. He might as well be productive while he waits for the world to finally wake up.

*break*

Meanwhile, Gilbert was nearing the boarder of France. He had not stopped to rest nor did he feel tired, despite the fact that he had been up for approximately twenty-four hours. And he was breaking every speed limit he came across (although, admittedly, there were not that many in Germany since Gilbert avoided large population centers). It took him only an hour and an half to get through Belgium. At this rate, he would reach the Channel Tunnel in about four hours.

He pulled up to the line at the border check point, expecting to get through easily. A booth was marked a small globe. The symbol, which resembled the United Nation's logo with an 'N' in the middle, signified that a human was on duty that understood the existence of Nations and kept them secret. Slowly progressing in the line, Gilbert pulled out his German passport, ignoring the bitterness that he couldn't even carry a passport with his country name. There was a small Nations symbol in the top left corner of the identification page, identifying him for what he was. Sighing slightly to himself, he flipped up the visor of his helmet and began talking to the familiar border guard.

"Hey, Damien. What's up?"

The human male looked up at being addressed by his name. Large brown eyes widened under short blonde hair when he recognized the red eyes staring back at him and the loud bike underneath its rider. Clearing his throat, Damien smiled politely. "Good morning, Mr. Beilschmidt. You're up early." Taking the passport and stamping it, Damien asked, "Would you like me to contact Mr. Bonnefoy to inform him of your arrival?"

That stung a bit. Gilbert knew that the man was just trying to be polite, but the fact that Damien asked rather than just informing Francis of the presence of another country within his borders was a subtle reminder that he was without a nation and, therefore, any real standing in the world. If it was Ludwig instead of Gilbert, Damien would have called Francis so fast… Gilbert brushed it off. "Kesese, no thanks. I would rather surprise him."

Handing over the passport, Damien was oblivious to the blow he just dealt. "Alright, have a nice time in France!"

Pocketing the passport, Gilbert waved slightly, flipped down the visor, and then gunned the bike through the area, popping a slight wheelie in his haste. As the wind rushed by, Gilbert focused on the thrill of the ride, forgetting the constant reminders of his past as he raced towards his final destination.

*break*

It was now noon and Ludwig was getting impatient. Feliciano had been up for two hours and had already made a mess of the kitchen _and _living room. Currently, his lover was in his art studio, painting and no doubt making another mess. Germany rubbed in eyes and reached for the phone. In this brief moment of peace, he decided to call Antonio, figuring the nation should be up by now.

"Buenos días."

"Gut morgen, Antonio." There was a brief silence on the other end before Spain replied.

"What's wrong, Germany?" Ludwig frowned. _Why is it,_ Ludwig thought,_ that every time I call someone they automatically assume something is wrong?_

"Ah… yes. It's Gilbert. You see-"

"What happened? I thought he was staying with Austria? Did Roderich finally snap? Cause if he did I could call Francis really fast so-"

"Nein, Roderich did not physically harm Gilbert." Silence yet again. Antonio was one of the few who knew Gilbert was in love with the Austrian, so it was what Ludwig didn't say that made him pause. He may act stupid and overly happy but all nations carried a certain intelligence that was sometimes masked by their personalities (yes, even Feliciano). Spain read between the lines.

"How bad is it?"

"I'm not quite sure. Bruder left before I could speak to him properly. He left me a note saying he was headed your way-"

"Ludwig, I can almost guarantee he is not coming here."

"What?"

Antonio could not believe how dense the German nation could be when it came to emotional problems. "Think, Ludwig. He just had his heart broken. Would he really go somewhere that had a loving, functional couple in proximity? Lovino may not be the most affectionate but he loves me despite himself. Do you really think Gilbert wants to be around to deliriously happy people while he's miserable?" After a slight pause, he added, "Plus, I haven't seen a sign of Gilbird."

Ludwig was silent for a moment. "Then where is he?"

Antonio sighed. "Gilbert speaks German, English, French and Spanish almost fluently. And his Russian is decent. He could be almost anywhere."

*break*

By the time Prussia entered Edinburgh area, it was late evening. He had ridden through the rain that was a constant in England, which only slowed him down a little. He had only stopped for gas and a little food. He was tired, but decided that he could sleep on the plane. There would be nothing better to do on his transatlantic flight. It would either be sleep or thoughts about Roderich. Three guesses which one he chose and the first two don't count.

His friend Alistair lived in a small town not far outside of Edinburg called Bathgate. While actually going to Scotland's house was a little out of the way from the airport at Edinburgh, he had to collect Gilbird and talk with his co-conspirator for this whole fiasco. In order to, you know, see if his future host was going to accept him or throw him back to his brother.

There was a break in rolling green hills as the town came into view. A smattering of lights identified which houses were occupied or empty, which had active or sleeping inhabitants. After driving down a couple of cobblestone roads, Prussia pulled up to Alistair's house and was greeted not by the redhead but by a small chirp. Removing his helmet, his vision was assaulted with a furiously flapping yellow bird centimeters from his face. _CHIRP!_

"Whoa, Gilbird. Calm down." Offering his gloved bare, cold palm for the bird to land in, Prussia felt like he was on the receiving end of an avian lecture. "What did I do?"

"Do ye nae think tha' maybe ye wee bird was tired of flyin'?" Gilbert's eyes snapped to his friend's grass green irises. The Scotsman was as tall as Gilbert and just a little lankier. The disarray of the dark red hair, the slightly slumped posture and the devil-may-care look in his eyes made it clear that Alistair was not on the side of angels. But, then again, neither was Gilbert.

Dressed in a dark sweater and black jeans, Alistair leaned against the doorframe to his flat faced, brick house (which was overrun with climbing moss). With arms crossed and eyebrow cocked, he regarded his Prussian friend as he dismounted the bike. It was obvious that the Prussian needed either sleep or copious amounts of alcohol. Perhaps both. There was a shadow of developing dark circles under his eyes and a slight twitch at the left corner of his mouth that gave away his fatigue. Gilbert's tells were all too easy to read for Scotland.

It only made sense. Gilbert was almost a younger version of Scotland. Both had raised their brothers to be powerful nations only to be lost in the shuffle. They knew how to have fun and carried scars from pasts that they would rather forget. It made it harder for Alistair to see Gilbert hurting because it was all too easy to imagine himself in the other's shoes.

Gilbert realized that he was being observed closely but focused on the little bundle in his hands. "I'm sorry, Gilbird. It was completely unawesome to make you fly from Roderich to Alistair. Can you please forgive me? I'll get you some fresh worms…"

At the mention of worms, Gilbird stopped chirping angrily, was silent for a moment, and then huffed (as much as a small yellow bird could). Seemingly satisfied that he was getting a treat later, Gilbird flew up to nestle in Prussia's hair, making a further mess of it.

Content that his feathered companion was calmed, Gilbert turned towards his friend, "You know, Scottie, it would be awesome if I could come in for a second. Got any worms?"

"Why tha hell would I have worms, Gilly?" Alistair stepped back and walked further into his house, knowing the Prussian was following him.

"You fish…occasionally."

"Aye, I do, but nae recently. But 'e both kno' tha' what ye want is nae worms." Alistair walked behind the mahogany bar in his den and placed a fifth of scotch on the bar top. "Ye beer is nae gonna be enough this time."

Gilbert sighed. "What did he say?"

"He said yea so quickly tha' I did nae have time to tell him who was commin'," Alistair replied, pouring Gilbert a double.

Gilbert hesitated before knocking back the shot. "What?"

"I tried to tell 'em, I did. But he was jus' so 'cited tha' I could nae explain what he agreed to. I think tha' tha lad has been a wee bit lonely."

"Showing your age there, Scottie. Well, the only one he deals with on a daily basis is his bruder…"

"Aye, tha' yank would make anyone wish fo' more company. He said tha' he would pick ye up from tha airport. And most forget tha' I'm older dan me brother."

Gilbert knocked back another finger of the liquor, enjoying the warmth it brought. "You know it's awesome of you to help me out with this."

"Heh, let's nae get sentimental. We're e'en from tha' time with tha police lass…"

"Kesesese, good times, good times."

"Gilly," Alistair said seriously, "I understan' why ye need to leave. But I'm here for ye if ye wan' to talk."

Gilbert opened his mouth to say that he was awesome now and would always be, but he closed it remembering who he was talking to. Alistair carried his own romantic burdens that were in many ways more painful than Gilbert's. So instead, he nodded and simply said, "Danke."

He had made the right decision to come to Alistair instead of Francis or Antonio. Who would understand his heartbreak more than someone who felt it every time he saw his brother in the arms of the American?

*break*

The following day, Ludwig had organized a conference call between Gilbert's closest friends and himself. He was deeply worried about his brother, knowing that if Feliciano had rejected him all those years ago he would have needed to talk to someone, anyone about it. At that point, he only remembered loving Feliciano for a few years but Gilbert loved Roderich for _centuries…_

"So have any of you seen or heard from mein bruder?"

"No, I haven't. There has been no sign of him at my borders and Lovi checked with the Italian government too with no result."

"No," replied the Dane. Matthais was concerned for Gilbert, but more than a little shocked that his drinking buddy had been in love with that stuck-up priss of an Austrian. "He hasn't crossed into Denmark or any of the Scandinavian countries. I checked with the rest us Nordics earlier."

"Non," the Frenchman replied, "But he did cross my northeast border with Belgium yesterday morning."

There was a silence. "How did you not know this earlier," asked Ludwig. "All nations are informed when other nations cross into the borders."

"Gilbert et moi have been friends almost constantly since ze War of Austrian Succession. And he's not exactly a nation anymore so I took him off ze alert list. I was informed by ze worker on duty that he wanted his visit to be a 'surprise.'"

Germany sighed, "Well, he could not have gotten too far-"

"Ye all are arseholes."

A chorus of 'excuse me's' in different languages echoed across the phone lines. Scotland just snickered into the phone.

"Ye deaf now, are ye. I said tha' ye all are arseholes. Have ye considered that Gilly does nae want to be found? Tha' he needs some time t' adjust to his pain? O' have ye all jus' been thinkin' bout what ye would feel in this situation?" Silence. "Yea, I thought so. This is Gilly we're talkin' bout. Forcing 'em to talk will nae help. Stop thinkin' bout yeselves and focus on 'em."

Germany spoke into the stretch of quiet that followed. "You know where his is." It wasn't a question but Alistair answered it all the same.

"Ye damn straight I do. He's fine where he is. Leave 'em alone for a bit."

"Mon ami, but where-" Francis was cut off but a low toned click, signaling that Scotland had left the call.

"Good enough for me," announced Matthias as followed the Scotsman's example and hung up.

"Ja, maybe Scotland it right." There was a loud crash in the background. "I have to go. Felici-" Germany was gone.

"Francis-"

"Oui, I agree."

Nothing more needed to be said as France and Spain hung up. They would find Gilbert even if he did not wish to be found.

*break*

Mathew Williams was shaking with excitement as he stood in the baggage claim section of the Toronto airport. It was one in the morning, but the nation was beyond caring. It had been so long, _so _long since anyone had visited him that wasn't Alfred or Francis. He saw everyone at the world meetings, but when he was there, even when he was giving a presentation, people looked right through him, even Arthur (and he helped raise him!). He was the second largest nation in the world and people forgot he existed.

_But not this time_. Mathew thought to himself. This time someone sought him out. Lightly hopping on the balls of his feet as the message board stated that the flight from Edinburgh had arrived on time, the baby polar bear in his arms woke up from his nap. People would usually notice if someone had an endangered animal in their arms but even humans didn't notice him. "Who are you," the small bear asked.

Mathew sighed. "I'm Canada."

When Alistair called him earlier that afternoon, Mathew was ecstatic. Scotland wasn't the friendliest of the UK brothers, but he never treated Mathew like he didn't exist when he lived in England's house nor was mean to him. Unfortunately, Mathew forgot to ask about who he was hosting, but he just went on the assumption that his house guest would be a man. He stocked up on ingredients for pancakes, cleaned his house until it was spotless and bought tickets to a local hockey game. The NHL was currently on lock out (those hosers), but there were plenty of games to go to that were still fun to watch.

So prepared, Canada waited as the first couple of people came through customs to pick up their bags. Dozens of humans retrieved their bags without fanfare, but no nation had yet to emerge. Slightly concerned, Canada walked to the customs exit only to be stopped by a guard.

"Sir, you cannot enter this-"

Mathew smiled as he flashed his all access security pass that came with being a nation. The guard apologized and moved out the way. Canada continued walking until the sounds of muffled shouting reached his ears.

"I _told_ you. Gilbird is not carrying any diseases and will not be caged. You can't cage awesomeness."

Mathew stopped in his tracks. _Oh dear,_ he thought to himself. He had never personally spoken to the personification of Prussia (indeed, he had only seen him from a distance or in pictures), but from what he had heard from Francis, no other nation had a pet named Gilbird. Walking towards the confrontation with a subdued sigh, Mathew was almost unnoticed by the guards.

"Excuse me."

Gilbert turned immediately towards the soft sound and searched for its source. His eyes found the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He thought it was impossible for anyone to be more gorgeous than Roderich but man, had he been wrong.

Eyes so blue they were almost purple stared at him from behind oval rimmed glasses. Cream pale skin was stretched delicately over fine but masculine features as honey blonde hair fell from his head. One lone curl hovered in front of his face and moved with every breath from pink lips. The man was a little shorter than Prussia and seemed… softer in his tan jacket and cream boots. The cute little bear in his arms (mein Gott, it was real!) didn't help the man seem...well, manly.

The man handed over a badge to the customs official who wouldn't let Gilbert leave. "The bird is fine. This man is with me."

Gilbert became aware of his gob smacked expression and reigned himself in. "See, I told you Gilbird was fine. Kesese, awesome timing, Cana- Mathew! Danke."

Mathew turned to finally look Prussia in the face and blinked at the raw masculinity there. He knew what Gilbert looked like from pictures but damn… Remembering himself, Canada smiled.

Gilbert blinked at the way the expression lighted up the other man's face. _What the hell is wrong with me_, he thought.

Mathew, oblivious to his effect on the former nation, replied, "No problem at all, Pru- Gilbert. Welcome to Canada."

A/N: okay, that took forever. Reviews are love (remember, this is my first fic).

Canada saved Gilbert from customs officials! (I've been through too many custom checks…)

No offence to the NHL. I love hockey and I appreciate the issues of the recently ended lockout, but all a girl wants is to watch grown men chase a puck around and fight each other. That's all.

I'm sorry if I'm completely off about how borders work in Europe. If it helps my ignorance, I'm American. *shot by Europeans sick of American ignorance and patriotic Americans*

*resurrected* I'm sorry about the Scottish accent. I can only do Berwald's and *shot by Scottish people*

*resurrected* Come on, now! I only have 7 lives left… Ch 2 songs: "Lithium" by Evanescence or "Rocket Collecting" by Milla

That's all folks.

darkhuntress13


	4. Ch 3: First Impressions

I do not own Hetalia. If I did, yaoi would not be implied… it would be blatant.

Ch. 3: First Impressions

"So, how was your flight?" Mathew asked Gilbert as they walked out of customs. His excitement of having a guest was dimmed slightly as he came to the realization that he had no idea how to talk to the nation beside him. Hearing Arthur complain about Prussia as a teenager and Francis' wild stories, it was difficult to get past the picture in his head. A sudden wave of anxiety hit Canada. _How in the world am I supposed to keep this man entertained?_

"Oh, it was awesome… from what I remember. I slept like a baby through most of it though." Gilbert said distractedly. He was more concerned by his reactions to the polite nation and the fact that he didn't know how to act around Mathew. He was determined not to overstay his welcome and get kicked back to Europe to face his brother who would no doubt use those bondage skills of his to tie Gilbert up until he talked. Gilbert needed to make a good impression… yet found himself slightly tongue tied around the cute man. No, cute wasn't quite the word… Beautiful. Mathew was beautiful.

Mathew bit his lip slightly, drawing Gilbert's gaze before Prussia quickly looked away with a slight blush. Mathew, oblivious, said, "Umm, maybe that wasn't the best idea. Sleeping on the plane, that is."

"Why?"

Mathew laughed nervously. "It's one-thirty in the morning now."

Gilbert finally looked around and found himself in the baggage claim area with a "Welcome to Toronto!" sign above glass doors that confirmed Mathew's words. It was really dark outside. Gilbert shrugged. "I'll manage. Where did you park?"

Mathew hesitated in his steps, almost stumbling. He took in the knapsack on the Prussian's back and the riding helmet in his hand with some wariness. "You don't have any more bags? A suitcase or… a vehicle?"

"Naw, I pack light." And left in a hurry. But Mathew didn't need to know that. "What do you mean by…?" Gilbert remembered the helmet in his hand. After carrying it for so long, he kind of forgot it was there. "Oh, this. I had my Ducati shipped over from Scotland. I figured that you probably had other things to do than chauffer me around, so I'm providing my own transportation. Is that alright?"

"O-oh, okay. That's… considerate of you. Just follow me." Mathew led the way to the parking garage. He could have parked in the 'Loading Only' zone as a nation (yeah, they got those kinds of perks), but just because he could didn't mean he should. Mathew acted like a human when he was out in public. It made him feel like everyone else despite the fact he was quite different. It made him feel less alone.

Mathew became aware that his words may be construed as impolite. "It's not that I don't mind driving you places! I would love to show you around the city and hang out with you. I just meant that-"

"Whoa, calm down, Mattie. I understood what you meant. No harm, no foul."

Mathew blinked. "Mattie?"

"Ja, you don't mind, do you? Canada is kinda a mouthful and since I'm going to be staying with you for a while, it would be awesome if we addressed each other like friends rather than the relative strangers that we are. You can call me Gilbert, Gil or any other awesome name that you like. Just not Bert. I draw the line at Bert."

Canada chuckled lightly. "Mattie is fine… Gil. Just fine."

Gilbert smirked and Mathew's breath caught as his companion's eyes took on an almost feral light. It should be illegal to look that good. "Mattie, I can tell that we're going to get along awesomely."

*Break*

_Chirp!_

Gilbird emerged from his master's hair with a chirp that sounded more than a little disgusted. The chilly air of the Canadian early morning was not what the small bird deemed pleasant and was content to burrow closer to the Prussian's scalp to stay warm. However, after a few minutes in the car, the little bird decided to make his appearance.

"Hey, Gilbird. Be awesome and say hi to Mattie."

The yellow feathered one flew over to the unknown man and landed on top of the steering wheel. The startled Canadian let out a little peep of his own, an embarrassing habit that often was the subject of Alfred's teasing. He could feel Gilbert's gaze on him, so he ignored him to focus on both the road and the bird. "Hello, Gilbird. It's nice to meet you. I'm Canada."

The cute bird blinked small red eyes at the polite nation and gave a chirp of greeting. Then, Gilbird flew over to Prussia's lap and acted like he was looking for something. Gilbert groaned.

"I'm sorry, my man. Scottie didn't have any worms. I promise I will get you some as soon as possible." The bird pecked his leg in response and went to the back seat of the car. Gilbird was apparently sick of Gilbert.

"No bird should have that much attitude," Gilbert said while rubbing his leg. Not that he was hurt; his leg was just cold. That's all. "You wouldn't happen to have any worms at home Mattie, would you?"

"A-ah, no, I can't say that I keep worms. I can take you to get some in the morning if you like…"

"Thanks, Mattie. That would be awesome. Gilbird's just going to keep the attitude until gets a worm or two. I can't neglect him, you know."

"It's no problem, Gil."

There was a short, comfortable silence until Gilbert remembered that he had yet to thank the Canadian for letting him stay. _Way to make a first impression, Gil, _he thought to himself. _Cause a scene in customs then demand worms before thanking the man for letting you crash at his house and picking you up from the airport at one in the morning. You're a _real_ charmer._

Rubbing his neck, Gilbert felt awkward. He cleared his throat before saying, "Uh, thank you for letting me stay at your house on such short notice. And for picking me up from the airport at this time of night. It's really awesome of you."

Mathew was startled. He had grown comfortable in the silence while his guest was feeling unwelcome. _Bad host_, Mathew scolded himself before rushing to reassure Gilbert. "No, not at all! I'm more than happy to give you a place to stay. It's been a while since anyone had come to see me and… I'm saying too much." Mathew's face burned with embarrassment as he suddenly became extremely interested in the road. _Great. Now he thinks I'm a loser with no friends. The fact that it's true doesn't help…_

Gilbert's laugh startled Mathew as much as the sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder, causing another little 'eep' to emerge. _Maple! If I don't get a handle on myself…_

Gilbert spoke with laughter apparent in his voice. "If that's the case I'm going to be a model guest and show you a good time." The moment he stopped talking, he realized how perverted that sounded. "I mean, we'll hang out a lot and do fun stuff." _Could I sound any less intelligent, _Gilbert thought to himself. But he let the sentence stand, not wanting to mess up even more. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, I read and I like cooking. I'm pretty quiet so…"

Gilbert spoke without thinking. "Man, you sound like Roder… Austria." Slight flinch. "There's got to be something else." _If he says 'playing an instrument', I'm jumping out of the car._

_Well, that was honest, _Mathew thought to himself. Canada bit his lip as he thought of his other hobbies. Francis always thought he was insane for enjoying dangerous things, but he loved the adrenaline rush. Mathew was unsure if he should tell Gilbert, not wanting to scare off this potential friend. Mathew was unaware that the quiet had expanded into a couple of minutes now, but Gilbert wasn't (nor did he miss the bitten lip).

"Mattie, I didn't mean to diss your hobbies. I just thought that you might do something a little more… exciting that's all. I figured that any man who carries around a polar bear would like to do some different things but I meant no offence by it." _Way to be a model guest, Gil_, he scolded himself. _Insult the nice nation taking in your sorry hide. That took, what, 30 seconds? Keep it up and you'll earn a plane ticket back to Berlin before morning! Unawesome dummkopf._

Mathew caught the cringe that crossed Gilbert's face and decided that honesty was the best policy. It would be far more comfortable living with Gilbert if he knew everything now. Not to mention it would be quite hard to hide the various paraphernalia he kept in his house to support his hobby.

"I love extreme sports," Mathew blurted.

Gilbert snapped his head to the man he described earlier as soft and lacking masculinity and asked, "What did you say?"

_Cat's out of the bag now, _Mathew thought. _Might as well tell all. _"I said that I love extreme sports, especially the winter ones. Heliskiing, ice-climbing, you name it, I do it. I even went ice diving once. My favorite to do alone is snowkayaking. The adrenaline is so intense. The way your heart races as the snow flies by and you're one wrong move from so much pain… Being so close to the edge creates this high for me. It's hard to describe. But you know what my favorite thing to do is?"

They were stopped at a red light. Gilbert was staring at Mathew, entranced by the passion in his eyes, the flush in his cheeks as he talked about his hobby like it was a guilty pleasure. It was almost like Mathew was showing him the workings of the universe, but it was a secret that he had kept for too long and was dying to share. In awe, Gilbert could only respond with a soft, "No, what's that?"

Mathew gave a dazzling smile. The light changed, so his attention shifted back to driving. But he kept the same excited, almost breathless tone his voice had reached when he said, "Hockey. I love to play hockey."

Entranced, Gilbert found himself leaning in the Canadian and almost growled back, "And why is that?" It was his tone, so involved, that brought Gilbert back to reality. _Whoa there, tiger. Back the fuck up._ Gilbert restrained himself from slamming noticeably back into his seat. _You met the guy not 30 minutes ago and you are ready to molest him just from hearing him talk about what he does for fun. Chill._

Mathew remained unaware of Gilbert's struggle, and continued, "Hockey is the perfect mix of adrenaline and testosterone. The break-neck pace of the game and the need to constantly be aware of your surroundings keeps the adrenaline level at almost a constant. It's too much for most humans to handle for an extended period of time. Tensions are high, nerves on the edge and the world narrows down to your team, your opponents, and the puck. Why do you think so many fights break out?"

Gilbert nodded his head, now firmly in control of himself. He didn't quite understand the game of hockey, but he now understood why it was Canada's pastime. "Do you get to play often?"

The light dimmed from Canada's eyes as his mouth quirked in to a smile that was part bitterness, part sadness and all resignation. It was the most hopeless smile Gilbert had ever seen and he never wanted to see it again on this man's face. "Hockey is a team sport, Gil. As a nation, it's not fair to play against humans. Everyone else is too busy to play at any other time than the Winter Olympics." _And no one remembers I exist long enough to make time to play, either._

"Mattie-"

"We're here!" Mathew said is an overly chipper tone, wanting to drop this topic. He pulled into a long gravel driveway that led to a modest sized white house. At two stories with a back deck visible from the angle of the drive, it looked like a family home. The surrounding line of trees provided much privacy and the land around the house was abundant. There was more land, it seemed, than house, but that suited Gilbert just fine. He was used to living in a basement and the amount of openness the space provided was more than welcome. The light by the front door was slightly overshadowed by a hanging Canadian flag, but still managed to illuminate the stairs leading to the door well.

"Nice," Gilbert said, a little hesitant to break the silence but accepting Mathew's topic change. He understood not wanting to talk about things all too well. Sometimes it's best to let sleeping demons lie.

"Thank you. I have another house near Ottawa, but I prefer living here."

Mathew parked the car and retrieved his bear, sleeping yet again, from the back seat. After Gilbert got Gilbird settled nicely into his hair, he followed Mathew to the house. When Mathew just opened the door, Gilbert looked at him funny. "Uh, I know that we are basically indestructible but it's not a healthy practice to leave your door unlocked."

"Gilbert, only a fool would come in here that wasn't a nation. Kumajiro never leaves and no one would mess with him." Mathew took his shoes off by the door, causing Gilbert to follow suit.

"And Kumajiro is…?"

"Oh! How rude of me. I forgot to tell you that you would be living with a polar bear."

"You mean the one in your arms?"

"No, this is Maple Leaf." Heavy rhythmic steps signaled the approach of an exceptionally large animal approaching from his left. His brain registered in the back of his mind that he was looking at a homey living room briefly until it was preoccupied with the chest-high polar bear that walked through the entry way. "That's Kumajiro."

The bear sat down and roared at him.

Gilbert didn't remember moving, but suddenly he was behind Mathew. _Who the fuck keeps a full grown polar bear in their house as a security guard/pet? _

"Kumajiro," Canada scolded that soft voice of his, "be nice. This is my friend Gilbert. He's going to be staying with us for… a while. I would ask that you refrain from chewing his hair while he sleeps. Now say hello to Gilbert." The bear gruffed at the Prussian and splayed himself out on the floor. "You can pet him if you like."

Gilbert hesitated for a second but then couldn't resist the idea of petting a polar bear. The fur was coarser than it looked and Kumajiro didn't attempt to eat his hand. Mission accomplished. "Kesese, hallo, Kumajiro." Movement in his hair and a small chirp reminded Gilbert of his own companion. "This is Gilbird. I would ask that you please don't eat him. That would be unawesome and I can tell you're the kind of bear that prefers to stay awesome."

Gilbird showed none of his masters concern as he landed on Kumajiro's head, chirping loudly in greeting. The polar bear blinked, growled, seem to think for a second, then closed his eyes and went to sleep in the middle of the floor. Within 30 seconds.

The small polar bear in Canada's arms stirred. Maple Leaf looked at Gilbert then looked at the one holding him. "Who is he?"

Gilbert's jaw dropped. The bear talked. It. Talked. Mathew seemed unfazed. "This is my friend, Gilbert and that bird on Kumajiro's head is Gilbird, his friend."

"Who are you?"

Mathew sighed, "I'm Canada. I feed you."

The little bear blinked up at him for a second then continued. "I'm hungry."

Mathew sighed again. This was his life. "Gil, I'm going to feed Maple Leaf. Could you please follow me? I'll give you an impromptu tour on the way to the kitchen." Gilbert could only nod. He was trying to wrap his head around a talking polar bear. It wasn't quite working.

Mathew started to point out rooms as he walked to the kitchen, still holding the forgetful bear. He mentioned some details about the dining room, breakfast nook and back porch until they finally reached the kitchen. It was modern, but understated with soft creams and dark browns. It fit Mathew perfectly.

It was only when Canada placed the bear on the tile floor and reach for the refrigerator door did Gilbert find his voice again. "Uh, Mattie?"

"Yes?" Mathew withdrew 3 whole, large fish out of the fridge and turned towards Gilbert.

"Maple Leaf just talked."

Mathew looked quizzical for a second then remembered that no other nation had a talking pet. Chuckling slightly, Canada turned towards to place the fish in Maple Leaf's bowl. "Oh, yeah, Maple talks."

"Does Kumajiro talk, too?"

"No," Mathew replied, washing his hands in the sink. "Maple's a bit special. She can talk a little, but she seems to have problems with her memory. Also, she doesn't grow. She's was a cub when I found her 50 years ago and hasn't changed since."

"You _found _her? Go to the Arctic Circle often?"

Mathew looked at Prussia and noticed that he was still wearing his coat. _I fail as a host!_ "May I take your coat? Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

Reaching for his zipper, Gilbert frowned at the nation in front of him. "I'm good, thanks, but you didn't answer my question."

"Here, give me your coat and I will tell you how I found her as I give you the tour."

Shrugging out of the well worn leather, Gilbert revealed his black long sleeve tee-shirt (which didn't leave much to the imagination) and a black and silver pendant around his neck. Mathew stared for a second, automatically taking the offered jacket. The play of muscles was… Clearing his throat and looking away from his houseguest, Mathew launched into his story while showing Gilbert the rest of the house.

The entire time he spoke, Mathew noticed as he pointed the various features of the house how Gilbert _listened_ to him. It was so nice, for once, to talk to someone at length without being interrupted or ignored. Gilbert looked at objects what he was talking about when he broke into his story to mention some random fact about his home. Gilbert laughed when Mathew talked about his shock of discovering Maple Leaf talked. He _paid attention_ to Mathew through a den, game room, living room, basement, office, an exercise room and two bathrooms. By the end of the tour, Mathew glowed with his inner joy.

Gilbert didn't understand what exactly had changed for Mathew to look so happy. With the exception of a brief moment of distraction when Mathew removed his jacket (and subsequent disappointment when he saw a loose sweatshirt), all Gilbert had done was listen to his host who was turning out to be quite interesting. Mathew's quiet excitement and tendency to go off on amusing tangents was forcing Gilbert to really stay on his toes. Of 'course, and then there was the whole I-love-extreme-sports and these-are-my-two polar-bears thing. Yeah, that could have something to do with it.

*break*

"-And that is how I found and kept a talking polar bear," Mathew finished without fanfare. By this time, all Canada had left to show Gilbert was his room and the room that Gilbert would be staying in.

"Kesesese, awesome story, Mattie."

Mathew was a little nervous. His room was a complete, no-bars-hold representation of himself. And for some reason, he really cared about whether Gilbert liked it or not. Mathew bit his lip as he gathered himself.

_There's that damn lip biting again_, Gilbert thought to himself. He was starting to see a pattern. But before Gilbert could ask what was wrong, Mathew opened his door revealing a lot of… red. His jaw dropped slightly as he took in the wall to his left. It was the Canadian flag in paint… and it took up the entire wall. With the rest of the walls white, the flag made a statement. Venturing further in to the room, Gilbert took in the red comforter of the king-sized bed, the giant polar bear plushie in the corner, a door adorned with quirky black analog clock (with a red maple leaf in the center), an assortment of sports gear, and black wood dresser which matched the bed frame. Surprisingly, there was a musket complete with bayonet propped in the arms of the stuffed polar bear. It was… cute, yet masculine. It was Mathew and it made Gilbert smile.

Prussia noted the quiet of his new friend and looked at him. "Awesome bedroom, Mattie. Any interesting little stories you want to share about this room, too?"

Mathew blinked at Gilbert for a second, and then smiled at the man. _He gets me_. Relief hit his senses, only to be quickly followed by a wave of exhaustion. "Not right now, I'm a little tired and…"

Gilbert whipped his head around to the clock on the door presumably leading to the closet. _Fuuuck…_ he thought. It was 3:30. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize that…"

"Gil, it's fine. I was having a good time. It just hit me all at once, that's all. Let me show you to your room." Walking out of the room, Mathew continued, "If you would like anything to drink or eat please help yourself to the kitchen. If you want to take a shower or anything, towels and stuff are in the linen closet which is next to the bathroom on this floor. Uh..."

"Thanks, Mattie, for everything," Prussia said seriously. Mathew looked at the man following him and saw the steady gaze of crimson eyes.

Mathew smiled back, "You're welcome." Opening the door, Canada revealed a more sedate room, done in deep blues and cream. It had less personality, but it also had a more universal appeal than Mathew's room. Setting his bag on the queen sized bed, Gilbert said to a hovering Mathew in an amused tone,

"Mattie?"

"Yes, Gil."

"You can go to sleep now."

"Oh! Umm, good night."

"Good night, Mattie."

Leaving his new friend, Mathew thought briefly how lucky he was Gilbert had decided to come visit. Of 'course, his desire for sleep overruled all other thoughts as the Canadian rushed through his routine and went to bed.

Down the hall, Gilbert got himself settled by unpacking his bag (which didn't take long) and arrainging up a small place for Gilbird to chill. He wasn't exactly tired, so he wrote about the past few days in his journal (not a diary, dammit). Mathew ended up being the primary topic for a couple of pages, unsurprisingly. Gilbert found himself with so much to say about the nation giving him asylum. From the way he held a quiet strength to the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about hockey. Gilbert felt like they could become great friends, but it was too soon to tell. They had actively known each other for only a few hours but… By the time he was finished with his entry, the sun was rising and his eyes burned. Gilbert got ready for bed and, finally, slept.

A/N: Hello, all. Yet another chapter is done. Yeah. Please let me know how I'm doing! For those who have followed, favorited and reviewed, you are awesome.

I am very much aware of the fact that the little polar bear's name is also the phrase Mathew uses to cuss. Think of it as payback for not being able to remember him after 50 years…

I'm back tracking a bit but, I came across a great song for the prologue: "Have You Ever" by Brandy. It fit so well I had to include it!

Song for Ch. 3: I had a hard time coming up with one but here's setting the tone for what's to come: "Could" by Brian McKnight

Over and Out.

darkhuntress13


	5. Ch 4: Breakfast and Beginnings

I don't own Hetalia, and, all things considered, that's probably a good thing. I'm told I'm a bit… twisted. ;P

Please note, the quote below (marked with "'blah, blah'") is from episode 13 of Hetalia World Series and I do NOT own it. That is all.

Chapter 4: Breakfast and Beginnings

_It was early in the War of Austrian Succession and Prussia was winning. Gilbert felt a familiar smirk cross his face as the sense of triumph filled him. Leaning down over the nation laying pathetically on ground, the primal joy of victory spilled out of his throat in a sinister cackle._

_"Kesese, you should have known that you were no match for me, Specs. You can bow down to my awesomeness now. Oh, and I'll be taking Silesia." Picking the Austrian nation up with one hand, Gilbert continued. "'Hahaha. Big surprise: you are weak and I am not, loser.'"_

_Then, the memory changed and history tilted on his axis as Roderich, instead of weakly demanding to be unhanded, responded in an evil tone. "Tch. We'll see who gets the last laugh you unsophisticated moron."_

_Gilbert was so caught up in asking for a painter to commemorate this moment that he did not fully register the change in the man before him at first. When he did, Prussia whipped his head around and asked, "What did you just say?"_

_With a sudden strength that startled Gilbert, Roderich gripped his wrist in a crushing grip, causing the Prussian to fall to his knees. Roderich rose to his feet and answered once victor in front of him. "You're not deaf, Gilbert. In the end, I win and you lose more than you ever imagined. And do you want to know how you will fall?"_

It's not supposed to happen like this, _Gilbert thought to himself as he refused to answer the Austrian, pain coursing up his arm He tried to move his other arm to go for a weapon, to fight back, to do anything. Gilbert found himself powerless to do anything but kneel. _This isn't right.

_"Hmm, well I'll tell you anyway. Here's a hint: my nation survives to see the new millennium. Yours does not. It will be among the forgotten and you will fade from importance, not that you have much now. Not even your precious brother will try to save you."_

_Gilbert was shaking his head when he let out a cry of pain as the bones in his wrists were ground together to the breaking point. The Austrian leaned over Gilbert to whisper menacingly in his ear. "But you know what will finally kill you, Gilbert? Do you know how you will learn how truly worthless you are?" Gilbert felt Roderich's lips curl cruelly against his ear in an imitation of a kiss, the touch, despite his pain, making Gilbert's heart skip. All the feelings he suppressed when his boss ordered him to fight this war came rushing back, just in time to be crushed. "When you finally grow the balls to tell me you love me, I will rip your heart out just to watch you bleed, finishing the job the war should have completed."_

_Abruptly, Gilbert felt a searing pain from every wound he had received and had yet to be given: the broken arm from fighting to maintain the small land of the Teutonic Order, the old scars from various duels bleeding afresh, the cut on his cheek that Austria had managed to score. What hurt the  
most were the wounds from wars he had not yet seen: burning lungs from still undeveloped mustard gas and a gunshot wound too close to his heart to be anything but fatal for a human. Gasping in shock, Gilbert looked into the violet eyes he had secretly grown to love in confusion. _

_The Austrian just smiled at him. "Goodbye, Gilbert." From nowhere, a fist knocked back Gilbert's head, forcing him to lose balance and fall. Just before his head connected with an unobserved rock, Gilbert saw the painter he summoned, dutifully recording this moment for all to see. Then, everything was black._

*break*

Gasping, Gilbert sat up in bed. His hands flew automatically to the small mass of scar tissue on the left side of his chest, assuring himself that the wound he received on the Eastern front in the Second World War was, indeed, healed. Coming to the realization that he was physically alright, albeit covered in sweat, Gilbert put his head in his hands. On the plane, exhaustion had stolen any dreams he might have had. The feelings and thoughts that Gilbert had repressed over the past two days finally made themselves known and it seemed that they did not appreciate being ignored.

Groaning slightly to himself, Prussia pushed the memories out of his mind as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Throwing back the covers, Gilbert padded over to the window and drew back the curtain. Mathew's front yard looked so bright and cheery in the morning light that Gilbert cussed to himself. _Every time… I swear Mother Nature likes to mock me._

Replacing the curtain with disdain, Gilbert walked out of the bedroom in search of the linen closet. Exiting the room, Gilbert heard the faint clanking of pots and pans from the kitchen. Gilbert was surprised that Mathew was up, since the sun was not that far from the horizon when Gilbert had checked. Gilbert listened to his host move around for a second, calmed by the normalcy of cooking sounds and the notion of not being alone (despite the fact that he was avoiding literally everyone he knew). An unknown tension drained from Prussia's shoulders as he went to go shower, hoping that the water would wash away both the sweat and the memory of a dream he'd rather forget.

*break*

Mathew had been up for a while. He had forgotten to turn off his alarm clock in his haste to get to sleep and was rudely awakened by an incessant beeping at 6:30 in the morning. Thus far, he had showered, dressed and run to the closest fish and tackle store to buy Gilbird some earthworms. While Mathew had been unsure if the earthworms were okay for the small bird when he bought them, he took the chance, figuring that, if he was wrong, Gilbert could just go with him later during the day to fix the mistake. Upon returning, Mathew had a small panic attack when he couldn't find Gilbird, but was relieved 20 minutes later when he saw the small yellow bird sitting atop Kumajiro's head. They were both outside, enjoying the early morning air, it seemed.

Content that his guest's bird had, indeed, not flown the coop, Canada fed Maple Leaf and started on breakfast for the more hominid inhabitants of the house. While Mathew didn't expect Gilbert to be up anytime soon (it was only 8:30 or so), breakfast always took a while to prepare, considering the pancakes were made from scratch and in copious amounts.

Taking out the necessary pans and ingredients, Mathew was surprised to hear the sounds of water running from upstairs. _I hope he slept alright…_ Mathew thought. He quickly figured that to be doubtful considering the likely little amount of sleep he guest had gotten. _I'll just ask him what I can do when he comes down_.

Figuring that he no longer needed to be quiet, Mathew put on some music with the help of his iPod and stereo. Pressing 'shuffle,' the Canadian returned to his cooking and waited for his guest to come down so that they could start their first full day together.

*break*

Forty minutes later, Gilbert decided that he was ready to face the world… well, Mathew. He could feel the bass of some song on his bare feet through the floor boards and knew that the polite nation was listening to music. An idea floated through his mind and Gilbert crept downstairs as quietly as he could, hoping to here that cute little 'eep' of surprise Mathew had.

Mathew was oblivious to the nation silently approaching him as he focused on the quickly rising pancake and the song. Humming to himself, Canada moved his hips in time to the fast beat of the song that just came on. It was a Nightcore version of "Hurry up and Save Me" by Tiffany Giardina. While Mathew would never admit to liking the song, he loved the lyrics and the faster beat of the Nightcore version made him happy. So sue him. Gilbert was certainly shocked by the high pitched lyrics of the song, but understood the message of the song. He wondered if the nation was drawn to the bubble-gum nature or to the lyrical content. Remembering what Alistair had said, Gilbert was betting on the latter.

While he had successfully been able to infiltrate the kitchen undetected, Prussia found himself staring at the man cooking what looked like pancakes and smelled like heaven. While the food was distracting, it was the sway of Mathew's hips in jeans that caught the Prussian captive. Then other movement drew his attention to the white t-shirt that displayed an athletic physique and pale but muscled arms. Prussia blinked and the world beyond Mathew came back into focus.

The song changed into one he recognized, though he was surprised nonetheless when Nephew's "The Danish Way to Rock" came on. Still unaware he had been crept up on, Mathew transferred the now finished pancake to a rather large stack already completed and began the next one without looking up. He was now singing the mix of Danish and English and it was not exactly on key.

"I didn't know you spoke Danish, Mattie."

"Maple!" Mathew just about jumped out of his skin in response to the Prussian's sneaking. This caused the batter in the pan to move into an almost cone shape. _So much for symmetrical_, thought Mathew in the back of his mind before turning to his guest. _I'll just eat this one._

"You startled me, Gil. Good morning."

"Morning, Mattie. How'd ya sleep?"

"I slept fine. My alarm clock woke me up a bit earlier than I wanted but I slept wonderfully before that. How about you? You're up earlier than I expected…"

"I slept okay."

Mathew frowned, and then turned back around to flip the deformed pancake. "If you need more blankets or something just—"

"It's okay, Mattie, really. I just…had a bad dream."

Canada turned to Prussia with concern in his eyes. He, like all the nations of the world, had seen and done things he'd rather forget, so he understood that Prussia would likely not want to talk about it. Seeing discretion as the better part of valor (and considering that they started their friendship less than twelve hours ago), Canada nodded solemnly and said, "Breakfast is almost ready. Feel free to sit down. Do you want anything to drink?"

Prussia blinked at Mathew's nonchalance, pleased and surprised by the lack of an offer to 'talk about it.' Smiling slightly to himself, Gilbert answered, "Sure, but I'll get it, if you don't mind."

"Help yourself. My home is yours."

"Thanks, do you need help with anything?"

"Could you grab the maple syrup from the fridge when grab whatever you want to drink? The glasses are in that cabinet," Mathew said, gesturing to the wood door in question. "Or do you want something warm to drink?"

Gilbert opened the appliance and zeroed in on the orange juice. Scanning the door, he grabbed the maple syrup before heading over to get a glass. "I'll just have some juice. You want anything, Mattie?"

"I'm covered, thank you." Mathew held up a glass of apple juice by the stove where he was almost done with the last pancake and noticed the fridge door was still open. Seeing as how Gilbert was still pouring the orange juice, Mathew didn't say anything even though leaving the refrigerator's door open was one of his pet peeves. Alfred did it all the time when he remembered to visit and it just drove Mathew up the wall. It was wasting energy and—

Gilbert replaced the orange juice and shut the door.

Mathew let loose a sigh that Gilbert noticed. "Are you alright over there?"

Chuckling slightly as his face flushed, Mathew nodded. "I was waiting to see if you would shut the fridge door. Alfred doesn't whenever he visits and it drives me nuts. It's not enough that he eats me out of house and home, but he forgets to close the fridge, especially when he eats in the middle of the night. It's infuriating."

"Okay… mental note to always close the door."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were—"

"Mattie, brothers have this way of making us hate little things. I get it, I really do. West is a compulsive cleaner and I like to leave a bit of a mess behind; I think it makes the house feel lived in. He has confined me to the basement to keep the peace. From the looks of the kitchen," Gilbert looked around for effect, seeing splatters of batter here and there as well as some white powder which could be any number of baking ingredients, "you are not at the Ludwig level of compulsively clean. This is a good thing."

Mathew chuckled and left it at that. "Are you ready to eat?"

"Sure. It smells awesome."

Mathew smiled that eye-twinkling smile that left Gilbert with a bit of vertigo. "It's my specialty."

"Well, alrighty then." Gilbert sat down at the already set table and looked at Mathew. "Thanks for breakfast."

"It's all good. Dig in."

After saying grace (which Mathew raised his eyebrows at but otherwise stayed silent), Gilbert dug in. Mathew thought Gilbert's eyes would pop when they got dangerously wide after the first bite. Amused, Mathew said nonchalantly, "It tastes better with the syrup."

"It gets BETTER?"

Mathew barely contained himself. It always brought him great joy to see someone try his pancakes for the first time. His favorite time was when Japan nearly freaked out trying to eat as many pancakes as possible without seeming rude or overeager by his standards. But seeing Prussia almost dive for the syrup was a close second.

_Scratch that, _Mathew thought, watching Prussia's unwitting reaction to the first bite with syrup. _This takes the cake, by far._

The small morsel of food disappeared behind those pale lips and what came next was what Mathew would describe as the most sensual reaction to breakfast he had ever imagined. Gilbert's eyes drifted closed and a low groan came up from the throat. As the nation chewed slowly, a flush of pleasure chased its way across his high, sharp cheek bones. He swallowed almost regretfully, sad to see the food go and licked his bottom lip to get the last drop of syrup that had escaped. When Gilbert opened his red eyes again, they were a little unfocused.

It was over in less than ten seconds. Mathew was leaning over his pancakes with parted lips and was more than a little turned on. It didn't help when Gilbert, still in his post-pancake-with-syrup haze said in a soft voice, "Mattie, that was amazing."

Mathew was polite, but he had limits. He would have jumped Prussia then and there if Gilbert hadn't suddenly remembered the fact that he had a whole stack of pancakes and a full bottle of syrup in front of him. Mathew came back to himself as Prussia was about halfway through his first pancake. Chuckling to himself, Mathew blushed but followed the Prussian's example at a more sedate pace.

It was about five minutes later when Gilbert realized that he was eating the pancakes like he was starving. Instantly, Austria's voice flashed through his mind. _Unsophisticated moron… freak of nature…_

Mathew noticed the sudden change in his guest as Gilbert stopped eating all together and sat up straight. "Are you okay?"

"Ja, I'm fine. Look, I'm sorry that I was—"

"-Going at the pancakes like a man dying of hunger?"

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, "Ja."

Mathew's good-natured laugh surprised Gilbert, who was expecting the scolding he would have received from Ludwig or Francis or Austria or… damn near anyone. "Gil, I'm happy that you enjoy my food. Truly, you are not the first one to have an… extreme reaction to tasting my pancakes for the first time. I see it as a compliment."

Gilbert scanned his host's open face, looking for any sign that he was joking. Not finding any, Gilbert smiled and went back to his pancakes.

*break*

Back in Europe, Francis and Antonio officially started looking for Gilbert. Uncertain which country to ask first about Gilbert's whereabouts, the duo decided to start at the beginning. Their arrival at the airport in Vienna was met with a car ready to take them to their destination. While the nations had to inform one another of their travel arrangements (with the notable exception of Gilbert), they were not expecting an escort to the Austrian's house.

"He knows why we are here, mon ami," Francis said as they got into the car.

"Sí. I suppose it makes sense since he was the one who called Germany to inform him of what happened. Do you think it's because of a guilty conscience?"

"Come on, Antonio. We both know Roderich too well to zink his motives are entirely altruistic. He most likely wants zis zing over with as soon as possible so he can go back to playing zat piano."

Spain sighed and looked out the window as the neared Austria's house. As he stared out the window without really seeing the rushing landscape, Antonio thought about his albino friend. They had known each other for centuries. Back then, Ludwig was still Holy Rome and Lovino attempted to clean the library (he had since stopped trying), and life was good. He had yet to be defeated by Arthur and Gilbert was still called the Teutonic Order. Long ago, Antonio rode on the power of being a world power and recognized the spark in Gilbert's eye that he saw every time he looked in the mirror: the desire for more. More land, more power, more money, it was all the same back then. In a way, life was simpler. It was all about the next conquest and the chase was all consuming.

Then within a century, it had all changed. Problems arose in the New World for Antonio after the defeat of his Armada and then Gilbert suddenly had to become a true big brother for Ludwig after the Thirty Years' War. Life got more complicated as Antonio fought to keep Romano and Gilbert fought to become strong enough for both him and his infirmed younger brother. Francis and Gil didn't really connect until the War of Austrian Succession, but since then Spain, France and Prussia had become near constant friends as people, even through the wars their countries fought with each other.

Antonio smiled sadly as he remembered how Gilbert fought to build a seat of power for both himself and Ludwig. He even went so far as to fight Austria, whom he loved, in order to gain territory. He sacrificed his shot at happiness with the aristocrat for the sake of his country and family, even though Antonio saw something die in his eyes when he did it.

Now, years after Gilbert had lost everything he worked so hard for, he had reached out to the man he loved only to be rejected. Whether Gilbert knew it or not, the Prussian needed Antonio and Francis to help him through this. They refused to let him face his misery alone. With the hope of love gone from his life, Antonio didn't know what Prussia would do. This shared fear brought him and Francis to Roderich's house to see just how bad it was.

Immediately after the war, Gilbert didn't have time to contemplate the loss of his homeland. He was assigned to represent East Germany (since they couldn't exactly bisect Ludwig) and was taken to Ivan's house. He wouldn't talk about what happened, but he small pieces of information he divulged when drunk was enough that Antonio didn't wish to think on it either. With the reunification, Ludwig took over running Germany while he tried to care for his soul-weary brother. Gilbert, as a result, spent much of the 1990s as drunk as his physiology allowed. With the exception of Arthur, it's hard for a nation to get drunk enough for a blackout. Francis and Antonio reconnected with Gilbert and, while concerned, didn't know what to do besides help him along his path to oblivion. _But this time,_ Antonio thought,_ is going to be different. We will be there for him. We just have to find him first._

"We will find him, Antonio."

Spain looked at Francis with serious eyes, saw the determination in the Frenchman's gaze, and then nodded. "Yes, indeed we will."

*break*

"Uh, what day is it?"

Mathew glanced at Gilbert in the passenger seat before turning his gaze back to the road. Mathew insisted on heading to a shopping center so that Gilbert could get anything he needed. It turns out that the earthworms were fine for Gilbird, but Prussia only brought a couple of days worth of clothes. Considering that he had _still_ not clarified exactly how long he would be staying (not that Mathew asked), Mathew thought it prudent that he had more. "It's Thursday. Why do you ask?"

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, the movement letting Mathew know that Prussia felt uncomfortable about something. "Uh… did you have to work today?"

_How considerate,_ Mathew thought. _Okay, it was an afterthought, really, but he cares!_ Smiling, Mathew answered, "Don't worry about it. My bosses know that I may not be able to come in unexpectedly due to spontaneous visitors, namely America. I think they probably were getting concerned that I hadn't taken a vacation in the past couple of years. The country basically runs itself without my assistance now, but the government always finds something to throw at me to keep me busy…" Mathew became aware who he was talking to and immediately began to apologize, "Gilbert, I'm sorry. I—"

"It's alright, Mattie. I asked. Besides, I don't want you walking on eggshells around me. I know what I am and what I am not and I've largely accepted that. I don't resent you or anything, so don't worry about it."

Mathew chewed his lip, unsure, and mentally scrambled to move on to a new topic. "So, because I have some vacation time, I'm free until the next world meeting. I have a couple of things planned for us to do, if you don't mind." Canada flushed as he realized that he had yet to ask his guest if he likes hockey. As a matter of fact, Mathew talked about himself all last night without inquiring about Gilbert's hobbies, which was out of character for him. Maybe he was so happy just to be noticed that it went to his head. He would have to rectify that as soon as possible.

Gilbert was no mind-reader, but he could tell that something was bothering the Canadian. It looked like Mathew was going to make his lip bleed if he gnawed on it any harder, so Gilbert focused on getting him talking. "Like what?"

"Umm, there's a local hockey game tomorrow that I wanted to take you to. Do you like hockey?"

"I've never seen it played or played it, so—"

"What!"

Gilbert looked at Mathew, who had this look of outrage on his face. His volume didn't really change, but the look in his eyes told Gilbert that he had stepped over a line for the Canadian with his inexperience. They locked eyes for long enough that in the back of his mind Gilbert was concerned about getting into a car crash. Then a look of determination filled Canada's eyes before he turned back to the road.

"We are going to that game."

Who was Gilbert to argue? Judging by the look on Mathew's face, it wouldn't be wise. "Awesome."

"What do you like to do besides being completely unaware of the greatest sport to ever be invented?"

Gilbert wasn't used to this more cheeky side of Mathew, but he found he liked it. "Well, I party with Antonio and Francis a lot. I recreationally raise havoc with Alistair and Matthias. I harass West and Roderich and—"

"So basically you drink alcohol and annoy others." Mathew couldn't help snickering a bit. He could see Prussia raising all sorts of hell that would drive the more sensible nations nuts.

Prussia feigned hurt, "I don't annoy them; I grace them with my awesome presence!"

They came to a stop-light and Mathew doubled over with laughter. Gilbert flirted with the idea that he should be offended by how hilarious Mathew found the notion of him lighting up other people's day, but decided after seeing the grin on Canada's face that he would just let it go.

"I noticed that you didn't refute the drinking alcohol thing."

Prussia pouted. "I do other stuff, too."

Mathew, looked at Gilbert with an eyebrow raise, "Like what, Gil?"

Gilbert hesitated. He didn't often share what he did when he wasn't out drinking or being 'awesome.' Usually, he wouldn't even deny that all he did was party and piss people off. They were some of his favorite pastimes, after all. Gilbert frowned and wondered why he felt the need to not be that person to Mathew, the person who everyone with the exceptions of Alistair, Francis, Antonio and Ludwig (and maybe Feliciano, they did live in the same house, after all) thought he was.

Meanwhile, Mathew remembered that this was a man that he just met and that he was being rude, implying that who Gilbert was, was not enough. It wasn't often that his snarky side came out to play, but when it did, it tended to be scathing. That hockey thing just pushed him over the edge. Mathew bit his lip before opening his mouth to apologize, but Gilbert cut him off before he could say anything. Gilbert spoke in a tone completely devoid of the arrogance that usually flavored his words as he shared himself with Mathew.

"I do a lot of different things. I still do weapon's training. It feels weird not to be at war constantly, so I like to stay in shape with practice. I read a lot of fiction, especially science fiction, fantasy and urban fantasy. It is kind of a mental escape for me. I also like to sing. Tony taught me play the guitar a while back, so I fiddle around with that when the mood strikes."

"Oh."

"That's all you have to say, Mattie," Gilbert asked as the slight strain of arrogance returned to his words. "Oh?"

Mathew flushed as he pulled into the parking lot. "It's just, from the stories that I remember Francis telling me about your… escapades and your own initial description of your hobbies that it was difficult imagining you doing more than having a good time."

Gilbert smiled slightly then said, as they exited the now parked car, "There's more than one way to have fun, Mattie. Besides, how often do you actually go out and party?"

"Umm… only when Alfred makes me. Usually I just sit there and wait for him to get us kicked out, so it's not really my idea of a good time."

Right before entering the store, Mathew noticed that Gilbert was no longer beside him. Turning around, Canada found Prussia a few steps back, staring at him in astonishment which slowly morphed into a growing smirk. Mathew felt nervous as the smirk turned into something feral, almost evil. "Oh, Mattie, why didn't you say so?"

Hairs raised on the back of Mathew's neck when he heard the smooth, low tone of Gilbert's voice. _What have I done?_ "Say what, Gil?" Mathew was proud that his voice didn't show the growing concern in his gut.

"I have a proposition for you."

*break *

There was a banging at Roderich's door, causing the Austrian to come out of his daze. He had begun the day by taking care of some business, but the news of the arrival of France and Spain drove him to distraction. Currently, he was furiously playing Chopin only to come to an abrupt halt at the unharmonious notification of guests. Stealing his spine, Austria went downstairs to open his own door. He had given the staff vacation time when Gilbert came (it was a clause in their contracts) and had yet to recall them. Roderich told himself that he just wanted to wait until this whole mess with the former nation was resolved, not wanting to admit, even to himself, just how much he fucked up.

Part of it was guilt at his lack of control, part of it was guilt that the basic sentiment behind what he said was true. Roderich was no idiot, however, and knew he should fear what would happen to him if the details of exactly what he said were immediately divulged. So he just told Ludwig that Gilbert had confessed and that he rejected him, but he left out the manner in which he did so. While he didn't think that Ludwig would harm his country or his person, he might be tempted to do so. With someone as powerful as Ludwig, the possibility of a threat was enough to err on the side of caution.

Roderich hadn't expected Gilbert to disappear, however. He expected Ludwig to talk to his brother and for that to be the end of the matter. But with Gilbert gone, more people knew what happened. In all honesty, Roderich was surprised it took Francis and Antonio this long to get to his door. Of 'course, that could be very well because they don't know exactly what Roderich said. Neither of the men were quite as rational as Ludwig, so it would be a miracle if Roderich went to bed unharmed. The only bright spot in the day was that Scotland was not with them. If Francis and Antonio lacked restraint, Alistair didn't know the meaning of the word, in Roderich's opinion.

Opening his door, Roderich rethought the idea that Francis and Antonio alone was safer. Francis' eyes had a disturbing gleam in them while Antonio's usually cheerful face wore an expression Roderich had not seen since the last time someone threatened Romano with bodily harm. They both gave off an aura of power, even in their slightly wrinkled street clothes. All Roderich could think was, _I am so screwed._

Swallowing silently, Roderich retained his outward composure. "Please, come in."

Francis and Antonio removed their shoes and followed Roderich into the living room that contained the antique silver mirror, their eyes on the Austrian in front of them. Roderich swallowed again. "Would you like some-"

"Let's cut to ze chase, Roderich," interrupted Francis. Neither he nor Antonio sat but Austria sat down in the chair closest to him. It was either sit or show knocking knees, at that point.

"We need to know exactly what you said to Gilbert," Antonio continued for the Frenchman and then watched whatever color was left in Austria's face drain away.

"And why do you need to know that," Roderich asked as if he wasn't about to faint from stress.

"Onhonhon, mon ami. It looks like it was quite bad if Roddy here is going to faint on us."

Roderich _hated_ that name. Gilbert gave it to him centuries ago and, while he moved on to Specs, other nations still used it to piss Austria off. It gave him enough indignation to put some color back in his cheeks. "Don't you dare call me-"

"Well, you no longer look ill," Antonio broke in. _Perhaps we can fix that_. "We need to know how bad it is, how far away Gilbert would feel the need to go in order to get away."

"I still do not see why I-"

"Roderich, at zis point you have two options. You tell us what you said or we make you tell us."

Antonio looked causally down at Roderich, his green eyes cold. "You remember the Inquisition, no?"

A/N: I am sooooo sorry. Last week killed me. I am dead X(

*resurrected* Damn, I'm down to six lives now… I hope you forgive me because this chapter longish.

Anyway, this is actually the first part of a chapter I was going to call "The First Day" but my brain went *boom* and I felt bad about not updating. I will try to get you all the next part within the next few days (I won't leave you hanging for long), but after that I'm going to start a schedule of updating every Monday, at least. I need to do my school work, too (it's the reason I died last week -_-).

Song for Ch. 4: "Hurry Up and Save Me" by Tiffany Giardina. Listen to the Nightcore version on YouTube because I think it is much more 'awesome,' as Gilbert would say, than the original.

Hasta la pasta!

darkhuntress13


	6. Ch 5: Propositions and Hope

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. *sigh* Also, I warn you of the presence of dark Spain. He's a little scary…

Chapter 5: Propositions and Hope

Roderich wasn't particularly interested to become intimately acquainted with Spanish Inquisition interrogation techniques, so he prepared himself and told Francis and Antonio what he said. Well, he paraphrased. "In a nutshell, I told him that I was disgusted by his presence, he was below my standards and I would never love him."

Antonio knew that Roderich had left out a lot of information. He felt himself fall to a quiet place in his mind. Silence roared through his being and it was so peaceful. It was where he retreated to during those dark years when his bosses ordered him to torture and kill innocents. This quiet had saved his sanity as he smiled while his victims begged him for mercy.

Francis noticed the change in his friend and stepped away a little. Francis had done his fair share of atrocities over the centuries, but he had never quite gotten to Antonio's level. It had been centuries since he saw the monster that Antonio kept caged peek out. Pitying the Austrian, he tried to save him. "Roderich, we have never been overly fond of each other, but you really need to tell us _exactly_ what happened. Once Antonio lets himself go, nozing I say or do will be able to stop him until he is satisfied."

"Oh, Francis," Antonio said in a quiet, calm voice that was utterly empty. He sounded like he was talking about the weather. It made Roderich's hair stand on end. "Why did you warn him? It's been so _long_ since I've been able to carry out a decent interrogation. And Roderich won't die as fast as those fragile humans…"

Roderich in that moment knew that the only thing worse than telling these two what happened was _not_ telling them. Austria sighed. "Well, you might as well sit down. This may take a minute. It was about two weeks after Gilbert got here when I noticed how he looked at me when he thought I wasn't looking…"

*break*

"What sort of proposition, Gil?"

"Oh, Mattie, don't sound so suspicious." Gilbert still had not lost his smirk and his eyes almost glowed with his thoughts. Mathew had every reason to be nervous and he knew it. Pursing his lips, Mathew said,

"What's the proposition, Gilbert?"

Gilbert pouted but the gleam in his eyes made it more sensual than it should have been. Mathew fought the impulse to do a head slap for noticing his guest's sex appeal. "It's nothing bad, Mattie. No need to call me by my full name."

Faced with the grown frustration with Gilbert's avoidance and his own attraction to the man, Mathew's snarky side decided to peak its head again. Twice in one hour was a record for Mathew in dealing with anyone other than his brother. "What the hell is the proposition, Beilschmidt?"

Gilbert saw the spark of confrontation in Mathew's eyes and voice, pleased to get a reaction. "It's quite simple, really." Gilbert walked towards the other man until he was just outside of that invisible boundary which separated their personal spaces. "You show me your idea of fun while I'm here and I'll show you mine."

Even in his current mood, Mathew couldn't help but flush as mind immediately went to the more erotic connotation of the words. Further irritated by his flush, Mathew narrowed his eyes. "Give me an example."

"Kesesese, you sound so suspicious, Mattie. It's a simple exchange. You show me the joys of hockey, and I'll show you how to have fun in a club. You can show me your favorite places to ski or just around the city and I can teach you about weapons. Stuff like that." Gilbert leaned forward a little, barely invading Mathew's personal space. "Or are you afraid that my idea of an awesome time is too much for you to handle?"

Mathew was never one to back down from a challenge, but he was no simpleton either. He kept his wits about him, even when he was at his most impulsive. The quiet, polite side of Canada's personality was wary of Gilbert's tone, but saw no obvious harm in getting to know him better through different activities. This decided, Mathew took a half step closer to Gilbert so he was in his face. "I agree. Although," Mathew said, turning towards the shopping center entrance, "maybe you're the one who should be concerned. I hope your balance is good."

Gilbert was momentarily stunned by Mathew's closeness and the playfulness of his expression. They were literally _this close_ for that split second, not touching when it would have been more natural to do so. Mathew continued to surprise him and he couldn't wait to see what the next surprise was going to be. Following Mathew into the department store, Gilbert said, "We shall see, Mattie. We shall see."

*break*

"…I never expected him to disappear all together. I just thought that Ludwig would handle it like he always does: efficiently. I didn't think it would go this far…" Roderich trailed off as he finished his narrative. Francis was now sitting on the chaise lounge across from Roderich, his head in his hands. However, it was the Spaniard that concerned Austria. Antonio had only grown more relaxed as the relayed what happened. By the end of it all, he leaned against the arm of the chaise where Francis sat, his arms crossed over his chest. If it weren't for his eyes, Roderich would have been relieved at the at-ease body language. However, Antonio's green eyes had grown impossibly colder, taking on the mesmerizing quality of a snake's right before it struck.

In the silence that followed, Roderich began to panic. Neither Francis nor Antonio moved or showed any further change in reaction. Antonio just continued staring at Roderich, his gaze turning more considering than anything, yet still cold. In a moment of desperation, Roderich began to ramble. "I snapped, okay? After weeks of cleaning up his messes, dealing with those goddamn looks, listening to his incessant cackling and proclamations of awesomeness, I just-"

Francis' head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with astonishment. Antonio seemed to take that as a sign and began to walk out of the room. "Mon ami, where are you going?

"A la cocina." _To the kitchen._

Roderich paled and was startled by Francis' laugh. It sounded…joyous. Of 'course, this pushed Roderich to the point of fainting as black dots danced around his vision and he reached out to the chair's arm to steady himself. The only thing that kept him in the moment was Francis' voice, "Mon ami, Antonio, zat will not be necessary." This earned the Frenchman two looks, one confused but relieved and the other cold as the Russian winter.

Roderich almost asked, "What?" He was cut off by detached Spanish. "¿Por qué?" _Why?_

"Ohonhon, I will explain in ze car. You might as well calm down. No need to start an international incident over zis."

Antonio closed his eyes and went still for a moment, a look of intense concentration on his face. When Spain looked up again, his eyes had lost the frightening chill, sweat was beaded at his temple and his face finally wore an expression other than polite interest. He looked outraged. "The fuck, Francis? There is every reason to-"

"I will explain in a moment, mon ami. I assume, Roderich, zat you hired ze car for the entire day, non?" At Austria's nod, Francis continued. "Bon, we shall take our leave zen."

Antonio trusted Francis' judgment when it came to matters like this, but he wasn't leaving until _something_ was done. Smiling, Antonio walked back into the room and towards Roderich. "Sure, mi amigo. Just let me…" He picked up a tense Roderich with one hand, brutally kneed his groin then dropped the aristocrat unceremoniously on the floor. "… do that. I'm ready."

Francis cringed as the Austrian groaned and fought the urge to cup himself but shrugged. "I was going to slap him but I suppose you did enough for ze both of us."

"Your explanation better be good, Francis…"

France and Spain left Austria's house and slammed the door behind them. While he was still confused, Roderich was mostly relieved to have everything still attached to his body. Later, Austria would wonder just how he escaped being at Antonio's mercy but right now the only thing he could think was, _My life, it flashed before my eyes._

*break*

Antonio restrained himself until they exited the gate to the Austrian's home then threw Francis a dirty look. "Why is that hijo de puta not writhing in pain and begging for mercy right now? You know very well that what he said to Gilbert was not only unnecessary but-"

"Did you actually listen to what he said, mon ami?"

"Well, I stopped listening after he said that he told Gilbert he wished he died with the dissolution of his kingdom. I was a little preoccupied with fantasies of his blood painting the walls."

"You know, you can be really scary."

Antonio shrugged. "You know what happens when I let myself go like that."

Indeed, Francis did. Suppressing a shiver, France continued, "If you had not been so preoccupied with your violent fantasies, you would have caught ze same zing I did… Or not, considering zis is _you_ we are talking about."

"Get to the point, Francis."

"Roderich said zat he snapped from having to listen to 'incessant cackling and proclamations of awesomeness.'"

"So? That's what Gilbert does all the time."

"But, mon ami, we both know zat is not ze real Gilbert."

Antonio thought about it for a moment before his eyes widened. "You mean—"

"Oui, mon ami. I zought zat Gilbert had been his true self around Austria all this time. But if he never felt the urge to show zat side of himself or could keep up his façade for zis long…"

Antonio chuckled to himself. He knew from his relationship with Lovino that, when it came to true love, you couldn't help but be yourself around the other person, no matter how much you wish you could put on a mask. Only someone like Ludwig could hold himself back from love for any length of time and even _he_ had fallen within a matter of years. "Only Gilbert could convince himself to hang on to a crush for centuries and call it love. Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Oui. It is not as bad as we zought. Zere is still hope."

Antonio's smile faded as he realized something. "While this is all well and good for Gilbert's emotional health in the long run, I doubt that he is feeling 'awesome' now."

Francis sighed."We still need to find him. Based on what Roderich said, I zink he would have felt like ze world ended again."

"So where do we start looking?"

"All I can say is zat he is probably not on ze continent anymore."

"Well, shit."

*break*

Gilbert and Mathew had been shopping for a couple of hours. It would have taken less him time if he was alone, but the presence of the still snarky Canadian had turned the quick run for clothes into something interesting. Mathew provided commentary for when he forced Gilbert to try on clothes before he bought them, proving both honest and inventive. It was as they exited a store full of men's casual wear that Gilbert finally cracked.

"Enough! No more shopping. I'm done, I'm done!"

Mathew looked amusedly at Gilbert. "That was fast. If this is an example of your endurance, then I doubt you'll be able to keep up when we actually start doing stuff."

"Mattie, shopping does _not_ count as an activity. It's necessary, not fun. Usually I just go in, grab the first thing I like, buy it and leave. We've been at this for three hours!"

"I remain unconvinced that you will be able to handle my idea of fun. Do you just want to back out now?"

Gilbert threw his hands up. "Mattie, haven't even started. I'm hungry."

"Nice topic change." Mathew's stomach growled loud enough that Gilbert heard it.

"I don't see you objecting. Where's the food court?"

Mathew rolled his eyes. "The other side of the building."

The pair began walking towards the food court. About halfway there, Gilbert's eyes widened excitedly. Mathew followed his gaze and groaned out loud. "Didn't you say you were tired?"

"Yeah, tired of _shopping._ This is completely different."

"Food, Gil. Food."

"But after-"

"Yes."

"Fuck, yeah. Just wait, Mattie. It won't take long for me to erase all doubts from your mind and show you just how awesome I am."

*break*

"Gil, watch out for that-"

"Fuuuck, where the hell did that one come from? Mattie!"

"Gah! Get it off me!"

"_You_ have to get it off you, just keep shooting!"

Gilbert aimed the gun and repeatedly pulled the trigger, scoring the coveted 'perfect' with practiced ease as the zombies' heads exploded. He was working his way towards a high score, despite being surprised by monsters crawling out of the woodwork in the video game. Mattie, however was clearly a new player.

But, then again, Mattie didn't seem good at _any_ of the games they played after entering the arcade after lunch. Not racing, not ski-ball, not even wack-a-mole. Gilbert won every time, but Mathew didn't complain about it. He just went after each game with an untarnished competitive streak that impressed Gilbert. Canada was in the moment, having fun for all he was worth. It moved something in Gilbert, to see someone so completely focused not on winning but on having fun. When Mathew finally died for the last time in the game, Gilbert holstered the plastic gun, no longer interested in playing since Mathew had to stop.

Mathew looked at Gilbert as his friend's character was quickly slashed by zombies, earning gruesome wounds while Prussia did nothing. Biting his lip, Mathew said, "Gil, you don't have to stop playing just because I suck at this."

Gilbert shrugged. "It's not as much fun if I don't play with you. I have to go to the bathroom, anyway. Do you want me to get something for you to drink on the way back?"

"No, thanks." Gilbert nodded and left, completely unaware of the flush overtaking Mathew's face. Mathew was so unused to people just wanting to spend time with him. Alfred would have finished the game, going after the possible high score as another indication of his 'hero' status. Francis would have scoffed at the idea of even entering such a place. Gilbert was… different.

Mathew grabbed the bucket of tickets they had earned (they had the foresight to put the shopping bags in the car before they started playing) and went to go sit down at one of the tables that was not far from the game he just completely failed at, lost in thought. Gilbert played game after game with him, never teasing about how awful he was, nor embarrassing him by lowing in playing ability out of pity. He looked Mathew in the eye when he asked which game he wanted to play next. And when they accidentally bumped against each other in their zeal for whatever game they were playing at the moment, Mathew felt a thrill through his body. Mathew squeezed his eyes shut thinking about it. _God, I must be crazy. I've known the man for 24 hours. No! Not even that-_

Mathew's train of thought was cut off as a teenager sat in his lap, unaware that he was there.

*break*

Gilbert came back from the bar, soda in hand. He went to the zombie game but couldn't find Mathew. School must have just gotten out, because the arcade was suddenly lazy with kids. A little annoyed, Gilbert continued to search; he looked around the arcade to see if Mathew had found another game for them to play. Frowning, Gilbert turned towards the line of tables along one side of the wall and spotted Mathew worrying his lip, seemingly lost in thought about something. Gilbert's frown increased as he wondered what was bothering Mathew, but then became a scowl as some kid sat down in Mathew's lap. Enraged beyond reason, Gilbert stalked forward.

Mathew on the other hand, was used to such things, and tried to politely inform the teenager that there indeed was someone sitting here. "Um, excuse me, but-"

"Get lost, kid."

Teenage boys have more bravado than sense, so the teenager just looked up at an approaching Gilbert and smirked. It probably didn't help that he had a cute girl with him. "Why should I, old man?"

The girl with him, who also had not noticed Mathew when she sat down, looked at Gilbert and knew that they should leave. His eyes, already frightening enough in color, seemed to glow with animosity. He was tall and moved towards him with a feline grace that spoke of a predator. The girl was just as attracted to the man as she was afraid of him. "Michael, I think we should just-"

"You. Are. Sitting. On. My. Friend." Gilbert squeezed out, angry but not wanting to get arrested for child abuse. The kid, Michael, look behind him and finally noticed Mathew. He blushed as he realized he sat on some strangers lap. He stood up quickly, unintentionally bringing himself closer to Gilbert. Embarrassed, he lashed out.

"Get off me you fucking pervert!"

"You're the one that sat on him you insolent little-!"

"Michael, you sat on him. You should apologize."

"Gil! We should just go, okay?"

"But Mattie, he-"

Mathew was embarrassed and just wanted to leave. He wasn't often noticed when he was alone so he was kind of used to getting sat on. However, he didn't like that his utter lack of presence was displayed for his friend to see. He gave Gilbert a look that silenced the man mid-sentence. It was so desolate, so resigned that the gaze stunned Gilbert. "Please, let's just go. I'll wait by the exit, okay?" Without another word, Mathew looked at the ground and left.

Gilbert was torn for a second, hesitating before following Mathew. He wanted to lash out at the kid, but Mathew just looked so sad. So, Gilbert sneered at the teenager and began to turn away when the bucket of tickets to two had earned caught his eye. Snatching bucket, Gilbert headed over to the prize counter, soda forgotten. He remembered seeing something that could take that look from Mathew's eyes.

Mathew had retreated to the entrance and stood to the side, allowing traffic to flow in and out of the arcade which had grown louder as kids played with each other, clearly lacking any sense of their volume levels. He looked at his watch and saw that it was four. He and Gilbert had played for _hours_ but it hadn't felt that long at all. They were having such a good time until that kid sat on him. Gilbert made it easy to forget just how unnoticeable he was to everyone else. The world made it seem like he didn't exist but Gilbert acted like Mathew was all that he could see. The harsh reminder of his unimportance hurt more than he thought it would.

A tear slipped out of his eye, but he quickly wiped it away. He didn't want Gilbert to see him like this, though their budding friendship may be a lost cause anyway. Mathew closed his eyes for a moment at the realization. Who would want to be friends with someone who was invisible?

Gilbert approached Mathew unnoticed. He saw the Canadian wipe away a tear and something inside him broke. He also noticed that no one even glanced Mathew's way, as if he was just part of the furniture. It made him unspeakably angry, but right now Mathew was his priority, not the rest of the assholes who didn't see him. _Their loss,_ Gilbert thought to himself.

Mathew opened his eyes to polar bear in front of his face. It was small and adorable as glassy eyes looked back at him. Pale hands were wrapped around the belly of the toy and Mathew focused on the man they belonged to.

He looked a little uncomfortable, tipping Mathew off that he would be rubbing the back of his neck if his hands weren't otherwise occupied. The sight of this oh-so-masculine man holding out the bear plushy made Mathew smile despite himself.

"Uh, I'm sorry that I almost caused a scene back there. I hope you don't decide to stop being my friend and kick me out of your house for being an unawesome rage monster or something."

Mathew laughed and hugged the offered bear to his chest. All Gilbert could think in that moment was how adorable Mathew was, screw the bear. "Its okay, Gilbert. I'm sorry that I'm so unnoticeable that people sit on me without noticing."

Gilbert frowned at the nonchalance and acceptance in Mathew's voice. "Well, they should notice you. You're fun and beautiful and just all around awesome. It's a crime that people don't see that, don't see you."

_He just said I'm beautiful_. Mathew buried his now red face in the back of his new bear. "Thanks, Gil."

"No problem, Mattie. Just tellin' it like it is. You want to go back to your place? Maybe order in some pizza or, you know, have pancakes again? I'm kind of hungry again and I wouldn't mind eating again." Cough *pancakes* cough.

Mathew laughed. "Sounds like a good idea to me."

*break*

Francis and Antonio landed in Madrid. They had gone over places Gilbert would likely be on the flight over, but they hadn't really gotten anywhere besides ruling out Antarctica and Russia (which is mostly in Asia, mind you). Both were exhausted and more than ready to retire for the night as they made their way through the airport. Lovino was there waiting for them, his usual cheerful self.

"You bastards better be grateful I took the time out of my day to come and pick you up. It was such a fucking hassle."

"Lovi, I'm home! Did you miss me?" Antonio enveloped the Italian in a hug, causing the man to turn red.

"Get off me you overly cheerful bastard. You were only gone for one day. And, for the last fucking time, stop calling me Lovi."

Spain pouted, as per their routine. Then he smiled and poked Romano's cheeks. "You're so cute, Lovi. You look just like a tomato!"

Francis didn't know how the two of them managed to keep the same greeting routine for decades, but it was getting old to watch. "Hello, Romano. Zank you for picking us up."

"Yeah, whatever Frenchie. Let's just get in the car so we can see each other less."

"Wait, Lovi, I have to go use the bathroom."

"Bastard, why didn't you just-" but Antonio was gone, in search of the airport restroom. Francis waited until Spain was out of earshot before he spoke again.

"Romano, we need to talk."

"What the hell would you and I _ever_ need to-"

"Drop ze attitude for one second, Romano. It's about Spain. I'm worried about him."

Romano looked at Francis, still frowning but with serious eyes. Despite all of his vocal protests to affection, he loved Antonio more than he knew how to deal with. "What happened?"

"I zink zat zis Gilbert zing is getting to him. I don't know if its guilt or somezing else, but he is a little on edge."

"Just spit it out, bastard. Why would you think that Antonio was-"

"He reverted, Romano. All it took was a second and he was suddenly very serious about enjoying torturing Roderich. He seems fine now but we cannot fix Gilbert if we ourselves are a mess."

Romano sighed but nodded. "I don't understand why you bastards are even looking for that potato bastard. Scotland said he was fine, so what's the issue?"

Antonio was coming back, so Francis said quickly in a low voice, "Just distract him for a few days, will you?" Then, in a more normal tone, Francis answered Lovino's question with flourish, "You would not understand."

"Bastard, who do you-"

"What wouldn't Lovi understand?"

Lovino just puffed up his cheeks and turned red, so Francis answered, "So many zings."

"You French fuck-"

Antonio put his hand on Romano's mouth, earning a bite but effectively shutting him up. "Let's just go, sí?"

Antonio had his hands so full with shuffling Romano to car that he did not notice the look of understanding pass between his partner and one of his best friends. Lovino would keep him distracted, Francis knew as he was driven to his hotel (no matter how close he and Antonio were, no one wants to live with Romano besides Spain and Feliciano). They could resume their search in a few days. If Scotland could be believed and his deductions from Roderich's information could be trusted, Gilbert would survive a little while longer without them.

A/N: I'm sorry, again. A few days turned into five. Just to let y'all know, I don't sleep on Wednesdays anymore because of my homework. So please don't hate me for taking so long.

And, as a present, the chapter is pretty long. I certainly wasn't expecting it to be. And I'm scheduling another update for Monday so you *hopefully* won't have long to wait for the next one.

As a bonus, there was a clip about maple syrup addiction in Canada on a show I watch (which is not actually a thing, but the segment was hilarious). If people want to know about it the link to the full episode is in my profile.

Song for Ch. 5: "Don't Mess With Me" by Temposhark (for Antonio mostly)

To people to review, follow, and favorite, you guys are the reason I'm still writing this story. So thanks.

I'm gonna sleep now.

Night,

darkhuntress13


	7. Ch 6: Rules of Engagement

I don't own Hetalia. C'est la vie. -_-

I noticed a few errors in the last chapter, so I might do an overhaul at some point… oh, well. Edit 4/4/13: Which I have now fixed! :)

Briefly, before anyone gets mad, it was just as weird to write as it is to read. I hated writing the first part. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Rules of Engagement

_Gilbert placed his palms on the glass wall in front of him. A light that came from nowhere illuminated the glass yet left the rest of his surroundings shrouded in darkness. Gilbert didn't know how he got there or what he was doing, but he desperately wanted to get to the other side of the glass. Fear crawled up his throat, choking him as he desperately pushed at the glass. He didn't know what the pushing would do or what was on the other side, but he just felt the need to _get away_. Light and movement from the other side of the caught his attention and his fear melted into fascination._

_It was clear from body shapes that the two people making out were men, still clothed in nondescript jeans and t-shirts. The faces were hidden, concealing their identities from Gilbert, but that only made him focus on them harder. Hands roamed and bodily shudders could be discerned, but the faces still eluded him in the silence. One man, with seemingly feminine hands, picked up the other and placed him on a gunmetal table away from Gilbert. _Was that table always there? _Gilbert asked himself. He couldn't remember. But the pre-existence of the table faded in importance as Gilbert was shocked when light finally touched the lovers' faces. _

_Roderich pulled back from the man in his arms, seemingly breathing heavy in the chilling silence that surrounded Gilbert. His violet gaze was lustful as he dragged his hands through the honey-haired man in front of him, bringing the other into a kiss. Gilbert didn't feel the jealousy he expected when finding Roderich preoccupied with another. No, he just felt dedicated, gentle loss as he stared at him. The loss felt familiar as it should; it was really the only thing Gilbert felt when he saw Roderich conversing with others for centuries. This was the nature of love as Gilbert had come to know it: aching loss and silent longing. Gilbert touched his fingertips to the glass delicately, reaching out to the man he loved for centuries._

_Roderich, however, continued his erotic assault on the yet unknown man on the table. Drawing the other's T-shirt over head, Roderich briefly stared down at his lover, who seemed to duck his head in embarrassment. The gesture struck Gilbert as familiar, yet, as he looked at the expanse of the second man's leanly muscled back, he couldn't place it. Roderich clearly was not overly concerned with his lover's embarrassment as he swept the almost shoulder length hair to one side and began kissing his neck. One by one, red marks appeared on the once pristine skin. Gilbert watched all this dispassionately, accepting Roderich's silent rejection of him for this other man. It wasn't until Roderich's hand on the other's shoulder urged him to lie against the table that Gilbert finally recognized the bashful, almost virginal, lover._

_In his passion, Mathew's eyes were nearly true purple in a shade unique to him. His cheeks were flushed red and his lips were swollen from sweet abuse. The rapid movement of the curl, still miraculously in front of his lips, betrayed panting breaths that were lost to the silence. The rapid expansion and collapse of Mathew's pale, toned chest confirmed Gilbert's deduction, just as the image of the Austrian licking Mathew's collarbone made all logic impossible. Gilbert's vision went red as he took in Mathew's obvious pleasure. When he spied Roderich's hand trail its way across Mathew's chest to toy with the pink nipple, Gilbert began to bang at the glass in front of him._

_"Get the _fuck_ off him!"_

_It was as if Gilbert finally using his voice allowed sound to penetrate the glass. Mathew's panting gasps and shaky moans assaulted him as Roderich looked up from a preoccupied Mathew and smirked at the Prussian. _Oh no the fuck he didn't! _Gilbert thought. _

_Roderich took in Gilbert's impotent rage and drew his teeth over Mathew's neglected nipple. The Canadian threw his head back in surprise, eyes squeezed shut. "Roderich-!" was all he could manage to say._

_Gilbert turned his head away from the pair, desperately searching the glass for a weakness. A little above his head and to the left, there was a small crack in the barrier. Raising his arm above his head, Gilbert brought his fist down in the center of the crack. It expanded a bit, so Gilbert did it again and again, trying to block out the sounds Roderich coaxed Mathew make. Gilbert's hand was beginning to bleed as he wore down the thick glass. Mathew's eyes came into focus for a second and he looked around warily._

_"Did you hear that?"_

_"It's nothing, darling. Just focus on me."_

_"Okay…"_

_The sound of Roderich kissing Mathew, _his Mattie_, drove Gilbert insane. Using strength reserved for grandmothers picking up cars off their grandchildren, Gilbert hit the crack in the glass one more time, causing a domino effect which cracked the entire thing down the middle. Feeling empowered, Gilbert drew back his arm for one more strike when the clear window to the couple turned into a mirror and Gilbert saw his arm being caught by another. Immediately, the fear the Gilbert felt earlier returned, peppered with the urgency not only to get away but to get to _Mathew. _What made it worse was that Gilbert immediately recognized his captor and knew why he should be afraid._

_Twin crimson gazes locked in the mirror as the captor's left arm quickly locked itself around Gilbert's neck, displaying the red, black and white armband. The swastika stood out boldly and Gilbert's eyes widened as he saw himself lean towards his ear. This was Gilbert at his least conscientious and most destructive to himself and those around him. He hated and feared himself._

_The slightly younger Prussia smirked at the inadequacies of his prey. "Kesesese, honey, I'm home. Did you miss me?"_

_Gil was about to say no, say that he wasn't this anymore, when he was cut off by the arm tightening its hold to crush his windpipe and the sound of Mathew's suddenly louder moans. Prussia laughed in Gil's ear._

_"He sounds like fun. Maybe I'll go for a ride, too…"_

_Gil began to struggle violently at that moment, only succeeding in compromising his windpipe more. Still, he managed to wheeze out, "No…mine."_

_Black dots danced around Gil's vision as his doppelganger chuckled in his ear. "But I am you."_

_"N-not…true."_

_"How can you protect him," the younger Prussian said malevolently, "if you cannot protect yourself?"_

_The last thing Gilbert heard was Mathew moaning for another before he felt his neck snap then nothing at all._

*break*

Sweat once again coated the Prussian's skin as he jolted awake. _Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein,_ was all Gilbert could think. Groaning, he grabbed his towel and headed to the shower. It helped him shake off that dream yesterday, so it figured that a shower was just what he needed. Not a therapist, but a shower. Definitely not a therapist.

After relieving himself, Gilbert stepped into the warm spay. It relaxed his muscles while it washed away the physical evidence of Gilbert's nightmare. The psychological ones though…

Gilbert put his head in his hands and fought the urge to scream, fearing it would alarm Mathew. _What the hell is wrong with me? _Gilbert thought. _These dreams will get old really fast. _

A couple things really bothered Gilbert about this particular dream. First of all, the fact that his assailant was _himself_ was an issue that Gilbert wouldn't come within 15 meters of a therapist for. Especially since he was his National Socialist self… It's just that it came out of nowhere. Gilbert had come to terms with his and Ludwig's past years ago. It was kind of necessary when living in Ivan's house… fascism and communism didn't mix well. It wasn't like he could change his past. He wasn't proud of it but it never came up in his every day thoughts.

Second, Gilbert couldn't believe how ready he was to kill Roderich. He swore to himself after the unification of the German Empire that he would never personally harm the man again. It was why he didn't attempt to strike back at Roderich when the man attacked him… earlier in the week? _It's only been that long?_ _Fuuuuck._

Third, when the _hell_ had he began thinking of Mathew as his? It had been a day, literally just over 24 hours. To be sure, those hours were filled with some of the best fun Gilbert had had in years that didn't involve getting arrested. They were also filled with sinfully delicious pancakes, shopping trips, video games, coming to Mathew's rescue, and watching movies. Although if Gilbert was honest with himself, he watched Mathew's reaction to the movie more than the film itself. He couldn't help it, really. Mathew just got so into the movie, he made those endearing little 'eeps' when he was surprised and bit his lip slowly as the tension of the film got to him. If Gilbert was being _really_ honest with himself, he would admit that he wished that the movie had a sex scene in it just to see the Canadian's reaction… and promptly jump him because of it.

_Fourth_, when had he started thinking of Mathew in such a sexual way? Mathew was naturally beautiful and utterly adorable whenever he blushes. Okay, his snarky side shows an intriguingly leashed energy that really could set off one's imagination. Mathew's passion flushed faced from the dream flashed through Gilbert's mind and he quickly turned the relaxingly warm spray to freezing temperatures. _One problem taken care of, _he thought sardonically.

Turning off the water, Gilbert stepped out of the shower with these thoughts racing 'round his head. In the end, it boiled down to Mathew. Gilbert wanted him. Now what?

Mathew was his host, the provider for his sanctuary. He couldn't just jump the man. Hell, Gilbert didn't even know if Mathew _liked_ men! While it was the trend among countries to like men since there were just so many more of them (male countries that is) than females, there were a few notable exceptions. Francis, despite all his actions to the contrary, was bisexual and actually preferred women a bit more. Ludwig is actually Feliciano's exception, not his rule. He didn't flirt with all those pretty girls for nothing!

Gilbert shook his head as he wrapped the towel around his waist and gathered his clothes. It turned out that Hungary was his only exception. And for most of that time he thought she was a boy. (In Gilbert's defense, she did, too.) Sure, he could have sex with a girl, but it just wasn't the same. It was like something was missing from the equation or… it was hard to describe.

Gilbert sighed as he began to walk back to his room only to pause in front of Mathew's door. It was suddenly difficult to remember exactly why Mathew wasn't and indeed shouldn't be his. _I mean, _Gilbert thought to himself, _shouldn't Mathew be able to decide for himself…now?_ If Freud had heard this conversation, he probably would have seen Gilbert's id on a rampage… let's just say there is more than one reason that Gilbert avoided therapists.

Prussia dumped his pajamas on the floor and opened Mathew's door with the full intention of getting Mathew to declare himself Gilbert's or not only to be stopped in tracks by two things: the time and the sight of Mathew.

Intellectually, Gilbert realized that it was early; he knew that the sun had not yet risen. He just didn't realize that it was 2:47 A.M. as the clock hanging on Mathew's closet reflected light back from the moon. Gilbert knew the being awakened at 3 A.M. was not the most pleasant thing and while he appreciated Mathew's snippy side, he didn't want to truly see the man irritated.

Mathew looked like an angel. His skin seemed as pale as Gilbert's in the moonlight, his hair looked like spun electrum. His face was peaceful with lips slightly parted and pale pink. Mathew was all tucked in under the blankets. The small stuffed bear that Gilbert had given him the day before was only identifiable from the top of the furry head under Mathew's chin. Gilbert was correct in assuming that his host had snuggled with the bear when he went to sleep. It was so adorable that it stopped Gilbert for a moment and he could only stare.

Gilbert didn't know how long he just stood in the doorway, looking at the Canadian he had subconsciously claimed as his. He wanted Mathew to be like the bear: wrapped in Gilbert's arms while he slept. He wanted Mathew to look at him every morning with a smile on his face, relaxed after a night of love making. He wanted to know what made him tick. Prussia didn't think that he was good enough for Canada, but that didn't change things. Gilbert wanted Mathew to be his.

While Gilbert didn't know how long he stayed, he would always remember the word that made him leave.

_Rebound._

Could it be possible that Gilbert was transferring his feelings for Roderich to Mathew? What he felt for Roderich felt worlds away for what he felt for Mathew. Maybe he felt that way about the Austrian long ago, but if he did he no longer remembered it. Gilbert didn't want to use Mathew just to get over Roderich. After just one day, Prussia had more respect for Canada than that. He wasn't sure if these feelings were real or if they were just another way the Austrian had managed to fuck him over.

Gilbert left Mathew's room and closed the door behind him. Gathering his clothes off the floor Gilbert fled to his room. Closing the door, Gilbert leaned against it. He had no idea what to do. He _felt_ these things for Mathew and after one full day with the man he was ready to accost him in his sleep. _Rules_, he thought. _I need rules_.

Gilbert and his friends were notorious for breaking rules/laws, but those were set by other people to limit them. Gilbert followed his self-imposed rules the way he would never follow any other set. It gave him a skewed sense of justice that would fall in the legal grey/black area in many countries, but it served him well over the centuries.

Gilbert threw on some jeans then grabbed his journal. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gilbert got down to work. A couple of them were easy to come up with, but others… well it took him about an hour to get the list completed. This is what the entry ended up looking like:

**Awesome Journal,**

**Today I woke up from a completely unawesome dream. I'm not going to get into it much but it involved Specs and Mattie and unawesome Nazi me killing current awesome me.**

**It made me realize that I might have some… feelings for Mattie. But I don't want him to be a rebound! So I decided that I would make myself some awesome rules so that I don't accidentally force myself on him or take advantage of him because Mattie is too awesome for that.**

**1. Don't stare at Mattie when he's asleep. No matter how beautiful he looks, it's creepy and unawesome.**

**2. Don't think about him in the shower. If it happens turn on the cold water.**

**3. Got a stiffy thinking of Mattie? Take care of it with a shower, not your hand! See 2.**

**4. Don't proposition him for sex. Ever. He might say yes.**

**5. Don't think about how he is just as amazing as his pancakes.**

**6. Don't think about if he tastes as amazing as his pancakes. See 3.**

**7. Don't admire his spirit and personality beyond friendship. No matter how awesome they are.**

**8. Don't lie to him, but refrain from mentioning just how sexy and beautiful and perfect you think he is. Also don't tell him about the feelings that made you make this list.**

**9. Always stay at least 15 centimeters away from him. For your safety and his.**

**10. IMPORTANT! Remember that no matter how much you wish otherwise, Mattie is not yours! You have no grounds to be jealous if he talks to others or kisses others or-**

**Well, this is obviously in progress! Its lights out time!**

**Awesome Me**

Gilbert finished his entry, still a little worked up from writing that last rule. It surprised him just how transparent his feelings were looking at the list. And after one fucking day, too! _Way to articulate emotional fails, Gilbert._

He closed the journal and replaced in the dresser drawer. He was a little depressed from all the 'don'ts' of the list. Prussia would have changed it but his body reminded him of the little sleep he had the day before. Without bothering to take off his jeans, Gilbert splayed out on top of the comforter. He grabbed the throw blanket to cover his bare chest and fell into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.

A/N: Do you hate me? I hope not! It gets better for the two of them. Although I will have to start getting creative with these dreams... I managed to stay on schedule (11:50 Monday my time!) Next up: Mattie's reaction to small changes in Gilbert's behavior and the hockey game!

Song: No idea, really. 0_0 For shits and giggles lets go with "Diary of Jane" by Breaking Benjamin

See y'all next week!

darkhuntress13


	8. Ch 7: Resolutions

I don't own Hetalia, dammit.

The errors…from the last chapter… are killing me! I must fix… over spring break. Edit 4/4/13: Errors now fixed! *happydance*

Moving on. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Resolution

Mathew's alarm clock went off at a more decent hour than yesterday, but was no less annoying. He glared at the offending object (his phone) before turning off the sound and grudgingly getting out of bed. Mathew tried to make it a habit to start his day early, for some reason he could never shake off the desire to just hit the snooze button a few dozen times… or so. Granted, some (ehem, Ludwig) would say that eight in the morning _was_ sleeping in, but they could kiss Mathew's ass. Mathew dragged his feet to the bathroom, sluggishly moving his heavy limbs as he opened the door and moved to relieve himself. _Why am I so tired? _He thought.

Turning on the water for his morning shower, Mathew was startled by the dampness of the thick towel in front of the tub. _Gilbert must have showered already… Shit! I'd better get a move on. He's probably hungry and…_

Mathew snapped to attention and hurried through his shower. He couldn't leave his guest wanting! Although they had grown closer over the past day, Mathew could not shake his obligatory feelings towards the man. While Mathew was happy to have a friend, nothing else had changed.

And they _were_ friends, Mathew supposed. Having never really had one, he wasn't quite sure. From the shows, books and movies that kept him somewhat entertained over the years, friends were people that spent quality time together periodically and enjoyed each other's company. Good friends were honest and comfortable enough to know just how to tease the other without offending. Best friends knew and cared about each other. _So that makes us good friends, right? I mean, clearly it's too early to be called each other's best friend especially since Gilbert has other friends whom he has known for years. Actually, isn't it a little early to be good friends? _Mathew shook his head as he brushed his teeth, confused and becoming frustrated. _I'm over thinking this._

Mathew hurried to throw on some clothes, putting on the first pair of jeans he touched and a sweatshirt. After running a comb through his hair (_I really should be getting a haircut soon_), Mathew hurried down the stairs and looked around for Gilbert. Not seeing the albino, Mathew sighed in relief and began breakfast, figuring that Gilbert was still getting dressed. The towel in the bathroom was pretty soaked still and Mathew did fly through getting ready…

Pleased with himself, Mathew started on the pancakes. Gilbert was not exactly subtle in his disappointment last night when Mathew showed him the menu for his favorite Chinese takeout restaurant in lieu of starting on pancakes. Mathew started lecturing him on a balanced diet in a voice he usually reserved for talking to small children and Gilbert just laughed. Remembering the incident, Mathew took out a box of strawberries along with the eggs. No need to become a hypocrite.

*break*

Mathew bit his lip and glanced at the stairs as he placed the last pancake on top of a large stack of them. He had already cut up the strawberries and pulled out the whipped cream, so breakfast was ready. Hell, even the table was set. Mathew was certain that his house now smelled of pancakes and was a little concerned for Gilbert. He hadn't heard movement from upstairs yet that towel was so wet… could he still be sleeping? Mathew knew that Gilbert would not want to miss his pancakes for anything so, if he was sleeping, should Mathew wake him up? Usually he would just let his guest sleep but if Gilbert's reaction yesterday was anything to go on he would prefer to be awakened…

Going with his gut, Mathew headed for the stairs. He hesitated before knocking softly on Gilbert's door. "Gil, are you up? Can I come in?"

There was no answer. Taking a deep breath, Mathew opened the door slowly. "Gil?"

Gilbert was lying across the bed horizontally, his bare feet hanging off the side. He was partially on his side with his arms reaching towards the pillows. The dark wash jeans and mop of silver hair spoke of a carelessness that Mathew was beginning to recognize in the man. The throw blanket was only half covering his back, revealing white skin dotted with scars long healed. Mathew could tell which wounds were from punctures and which were from cuts. Some were wide enough that the weapon could have been a sword or any number of things. The fact that the injuries even left a mark on him spoke of their severity. (It took a lot to scar a nation since they healed so fast.) The fact that there were so many spoke of a strength that Mathew didn't know existed. From what Mathew had seen, Gilbert was fun, kind and had almost a child-like energy to him. To still hold those aspects after having such hardships painted on one's body… Mathew couldn't describe it.

With new found respect for the former nation, Mathew tried to wake him again. "Gilbert, come on." Having lived with Francis as a child, Mathew knew it was not always a bright idea to touch someone sleeping to wake them. It could lead to some…uncomfortable situations. Keeping this in mind Mathew walked over to the still sleeping Gilbert and threw a pillow at him.

The instant the pillow touched him, Gilbert sat up, alert, with wild eyes. To see such an utterly animalistic, feral look in Gilbert's red eyes was frightening and Mathew couldn't help but take a step back. Gilbert, now becoming aware of Mathew, registered the step back and a sad look filled his eyes. "Mattie?"

Mathew was instantly ashamed of his fear and took back the step that he gave up, providing a soft reassuring smile to his guest and newfound friend. "Breakfast is ready. I just thought you would like to know since the pancakes are getting cold and-"

Gilbert hopped out of bed, picked up a shirt from the floor and ran out of the room without another word. He didn't have time to see Mathew's face turn red. Mathew, bless him, was stunned for a moment as his emotions went from shame to attraction in the blink of an eye. Gilbert wasn't built with muscles on muscles like Ludwig, but no one could deny that the man was in shape. Fanning himself, Mathew left the room, determined to get some breakfast before Gilbert ate it all. In the back of his mind, he filed away the image of a shirtless Gilbert, with that painful looking mound of tissue over his heart, washboard abs and all. Heading downstairs, Mathew couldn't help but think that his guest was the sexiest man alive.

*break*

Gilbert sat back in his chair, his once overly full plate empty with only specks of whipped cream here and there. "Thanks for breakfast, Mattie. It was delicious."

Mathew swallowed his last bite of strawberry and looked wryly over to Gilbert. "I had a feeling you would like it. Did you like my inclusion of strawberries? You know, for the balanced effect?"

Gilbert thought_, All I could think about when I saw that bottle of whipped cream was to cover you in it then slowly lick it off_. What he said was, "Kesese, you're oh, so funny, Mattie." Gilbert picked up their plates and put them in the sink. Mathew hopped up to help him clear the table when Gilbert lifted a hand. "We talked about this yesterday, Mattie. You cooked, so I'll clean up." _If West were here, he would be asking Mattie to share his secret sorcery. Okay, I don't know how exactly _to clean_ but he has me doing it voluntarily. Now I know I'm a goner._

Mathew frowned. "But-"

"No."

Mathew narrowed his eyes. "Did you just tell me no in my own house?"

"Yes."

Mental face palm. "You are not going to keep me from helping you." To prove his point, Mathew made a move to get up, only to have Gilbert's hands on his shoulders, forcing him off balance and falling back into his chair. Then, Gilbert snatched his hands back like he had been burned. _Eh? _Mathew thought.

Gilbert quickly made a move to cover his obvious retreat. "Sorry, Mattie, I didn't mean to push you. I just want you to relax a bit. I feel like I'm not being a very good guest. So can you please just let awesome me clean up?" Then, to top it off, Gilbert pulled a trick that he learned from Antonio and Feliciano. He pouted, wide eyes and all.

Distracted from the strange action, Mathew laughed at the even stranger sight. "Oh, God, stop. Stop."

Happy to see the Canadian laughing, Gilbert stuck his bottom lip out even further and made his eyes impossibly wider. "Stop what?"

Clutching his sides at the hilarity of it all, Mathew shooed Gilbert away. "God, you win, you win. Just don't make that face anymore. You looked like a demon escaped from the looney bin that had their favorite toy taken away. It's too freakishly adorable to handle."

Gilbert paused at the 'freakish' thing, but the fact that it was followed by adorable allowed him to be pleased with his victory. Unfortunately, he never really learned to leave well enough alone. Returning to his trademark smirk, Gilbert said, "But Mattie, it worked so well."

"You need to learn to quit while you're ahead." Mathew stood up and walked past Gilbert who jumped out of his way.

"But you said-"

"I was going to relax until that last remark. Now, we are going to compromise. I'll do half the cleaning so that way it goes faster."

"No way. I do all the cleaning."

"If that's the case I'll do most of the cleaning and you just put away the clean dishes."

"What!"

"Or, since you don't really know where all the dishes are yet, I could just do all of it. That really might work since I noticed yesterday that you really don't know how to clean…"

"Half, I'll take half!"

Mathew smiled sweetly at Gilbert. "Nice doing business with you."

*break*

Something was wrong.

Every time Mathew got within 15 centimeters of Gilbert, the other man would find excuses to be on the other side of the kitchen. God forbid if he accentually touched him. When they brushed hands when Gilbert handed him a newly clean plate, Mathew thought Gilbert had seen a ghost or something. The one time they almost bodily bumped into each other, Mathew thought that Gilbert somehow gained the ability to apparate (yes, Mathew read Harry Potter), he got away so fast.

Normally, Mathew would accept Gilbert's behavior and just retreat to his inner shell, falling back on practiced niceties to guide him. But this situation was different. Gilbert was his chance to finally, _finally_ end his solitude. Mathew was so _sick _of not being noticed, of being forgotten, of being alone. Gilbert, out of the blue, decided to visit him and Mathew had thought everything was going well. He thought that he finally had found a friend. Mathew knew an opportunity when he saw one and damned if he was going to let this one slip away. He didn't want his friendship to start with secrets and beating around the bush. Taking a chance, Mathew let go of his learned behavior of polite indifference and let himself be heard.

"Talk to me, Gilbert."

Gilbert stilled at the tone of Mathew's voice. It wasn't the quiet one he was used to. No, compared with the Canadian's normal volume, he was damn near shouting. Of course, it was about the volume of Ludwig's normal speaking voice but that wasn't the point.

"Mattie, what's wrong?"

"Other than the fact that you are treating me like I have the plague? No, nothing at all is wrong."

Gilbert flinched. "Can we not bring up the plague? It's not good memory."

Mathew puffed out a sigh, his temper cooling a little as his mind automatically saw it from Gilbert's point of view. Of 'course Prussia was old enough to remember the Black Death, even if he went by a different name back then. Mathew continued, but in his normal quiet tone. "Sorry about that. But it doesn't change the fact that what I said is true. Why are you avoiding me?" Mathew's quiet nature again completely took over the Canadian as he lowered his eyes to the ground, embarrassed that he pushed the issue. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I just-"

"No, Mattie, no. You have a right to know. It's just something has been bothering me and-" Gilbert cut himself off. How had things gone sideways so fast? He was trying to follow his rules, he really was. Gilbert didn't realize that he was being so fucking obvious. While he was doing his best not to molest the poor man, Mathew thought Gilbert hated him or something along those lines. _I didn't think that I would need to amend my rules so quickly, but obviously number nine is out._

Sitting down at the table, Gilbert put his head in his hands, struggling to explain to Mathew without just outright confessing his love to him. Gilbert didn't even know if this was love. Was it infatuation? Effects from Roderich utterly crushing his heart? Gilbert didn't know what he felt and definitely couldn't tell Mathew. He grasped at explanations that told the truth without telling the whole story. Words were never his strong suit.

Meanwhile, Mathew waited for the explanation. He could clearly see Gilbert searching for the right words to say. If it were any other time, Mathew would let it go and quietly wonder about the cause of the change. But he felt like he needed to make this stand now and set a precedent that they could follow as friends. It was difficult but he wanted their friendship to not be full of awkward avoidances and tension raising secrets. So Mathew waited.

Gilbert finally looked up at Mattie who was still standing by the isle, not having moved since he asked, no demanded, Gilbert to talk to him. Normally, Gilbert would tell whoever it was to shove their demands up their ass (he really didn't like talking), but this time he was in the wrong. And it was Mathew. Taking in a deep breath, Gilbert began talking.

"First off, I would like to apologize for making you feel that way. It was totally unawesome and not at all a reflection of how I feel about you. Uh, what I mean is- fuck, I'm really not good at talking." Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from Mathew.

Reassured that he was not the problem here, Mathew relaxed a little. But Gilbert was not off the hook yet. "Go on."

Gilbert cringed but continued. "Well, you see, you're different from all my other friends. I've known them longer and we are kind of the… bad boys or misfits, if you will, of the Europe. Well, except for Turkey. I have to avoid him out of respect for Tony but that's not what I am trying to say! You are clearly not that type of guy-which is just awesome by the way- but I don't know how to treat you. You're just so different from them, which I already said. And then I had another dream last night and-" Gilbert looked away, blushing. "Let's just say it compounded the issue."

Mathew frowned a bit, slightly confused but grasping for a deeper meaning. "So, you are neither disgusted by me nor hate me?"

Gilbert widened his eyes and shook his head frantically. "Hell no, Mattie! I think you're as awesome as your pancakes, if not better." A shocked looked came over Gilbert's face and was quickly followed by resignation. _There went rule number five. At this rate I'll be propositioning myself by noon._

Gilbert's reactions only confused Mathew more but he shook his head and decided to let it go for now, relieved that his friendship with this strange man wasn't over before it started. The fact that Gilbert didn't hate him was all he really needed to know. Mathew chuckled, breaking the tension. "Well, based on your actions these past two mornings, that's pretty fucking awesome."

Gilbert caught the change in the atmosphere and ran with it, relieved to stop the serious talking. Gasping in shock, Gilbert put his hand over his heart. "Mattie cursed! It's a sign of the apocalypse!"

Kumajiro chose that moment to enter through the back door with Gilbird on his head. As if to confirm Gilbert's proclamation, he roared at the man. Again.

Gilbert was behind Mathew again, his hands on the Canadian's shoulders as he ducked his head behind Mathew's back. This clearly showed that his aversion to the Canadian's proximity was all but gone. Mathew let out a full blown laugh as he patted Gilbert's hand.

"How did he get in here?!"

Laughter still evident in his voice, Mathew answered, "There a pad by the door that recognizes Kuma's footprint and weight and opens the door automatically for him. There's one on the inside of the house for his nose to press." Mathew pointed to the door where Gilbert saw a discrete little square about the size of his fist by the doorknob on the wall. "This way I don't have to let him in or out. He does it himself!"

"Well, why did he roar at me?"

"He probably knew that you made me upset. He has a way of knowing if I'm distressed."

Maple Leaf chose that moment to pad into the kitchen from the living room. She walked right over to Mathew who automatically picked up the adorable little bundle of fur. She looked at him and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Canada. I feed you."

"I'm hungry."

Mathew sighed and moved to prepare Maple Leaf's and Kumajiro's meal. Gilbert eyed Kumajiro warily then said, "You have some strange pets."

Gilbird flew into Gilbert's hair, nested for a bit then chirped, as if in agreement with Gilbert. Mathew looked back at Prussia as he pulled out the fish. "Like you're one to talk."

A/N: DON'T HATE ME PLEASE! I know I said that I would get to the hockey game but this part turned into something longer than expected and I really need to do my homework now and I wanted to add in some polar bear action and I even attempted to proofread and I try to make sure to give you all something on Mondays and *in crosshairs*

Wait, don't kill me! I promise to update later this week with the hockey game! There, does that make it better? If you kill me now you'll never know what evil plans I have stored up *cue maniacal laugh* Mwuhahahaha! *shot*

Sorry this chapter is kind of bipolar. A lot needed to happen. So, yeah.

Okay, okay. Song: "Stand My Ground" by Within Temptation for Mattie's decision to fight for his friendship!

Until next time!

darkhuntress13


	9. Ch 8: Developments

No matter how often I wish on the stars, I don't own Hetalia.

Finally! Took me long enough, right? Enjoy!

Chapter 8: Developments

"Hey, Gil?"

Gilbert looked up from the book he was reading. It was _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, his all time favorite English book. He understood Dorian's fall all too well and the magic of the painting appealed to him. "What's up, Mattie? You all done?"

The Canadian had been called by his bosses right after feeding Kumajiro with something that needed to be done. Apparently, Mathew worked so hard all the time that the government was struggling to pick up the slack even with two replacements. Mathew told the man on the other line that he would be happy to help in his usual tone, but Gilbert caught the flash of annoyance in the Canadian's eyes. It disappeared so fast that if Gilbert had blinked, he would have missed it, but he didn't. Gilbert didn't know how he felt about Mathew being able to bury his feelings so well. The skill takes practice. A lot of practice.

But Gilbert didn't call him on it. He just asked if he could read one of Mathew's books, determined not to worry the Canadian about entertaining him. So they settled in the office, with Gilbert, sprawled across the floor on the area rug, reading his book and Mathew working diligently at his desk.

"Yes, I just finished," Mathew answered. It was about noon now. Gilbert wondered what the government couldn't handle with two replacements yet took Mathew three hours. Maybe stuff just needed his signature? "I forgot I had to tell you something about the game we're going to tonight."

Gilbert's previously relaxed face morphed into a now familiar smirk. "Ah, yes. The first of our activities. What did you want to tell me about it?"

Mathew narrowed his eyes slightly at Gilbert's expression, but shrugged it off mentally after a moment. He was coming to understand that it was just a quirk of Prussia's. "Well, the professional hockey league, the National Hockey League, is currently in the middle of another lock-out. So I got us tickets to a local hockey game."

"That's cool. What time is the game?"

"It's at 6:30. You should also know a little bit about the league that is the sponsor of the game."

Gilbert looked at Mathew expectantly. "Okay, I'm listening."

Mathew sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's called the APH and it promotes year round hockey play for all ages. The game I managed to buy tickets for is the seasonal championship for those of the later age group. These are men who might have played in college or just played recreationally throughout their lives."

Gilbert nodded. "It sounds awesome to me. What's the problem?"

"I usually avoid games like this because these men are in the middle of their lives and feel like they have something to prove. More fights break out and more rules are violated as they jostle for the puck. When the league first started a few decades ago, the number of penalties called made the game less interesting to watch. I go to games to watch hockey, not to see some egotistical battle, you know? But now, the APH has concentrated its best referees in the lower age groups, leaving this one to almost fend for itself. I tried to talk to the owner of the league about it, but he just said that these men should know better by now and the kids need limits the most. So, the point I'm trying to get at is that the hockey you will see tonight is not what I call fun, but it will give you a basic understanding of the game."

"Mattie, if you really don't like those kinds of games, we could always go to another one."

Mathew sent Gilbert a glare. "No way. No matter how much the conduct of the older players bothers me, the fact that you have yet to see a live and in-person hockey game is just that much more annoying. I find it hard to believe you've lived as long as you have without experiencing hockey. It's a crime."

Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows to give Mathew an 'I surrender' gesture. "My bad. But you do know that it is not the first crime I've committed, right?"

Mathew rolled his eyes. "I figured. You're friends with Francis and Alistair. Knowing you, you've broken more laws with them than I can recite off the top of my head, which is quite a few."

"Kesesese, you're probably right. But I don't regret it. Some of the best fun I have ever had led to me getting arrested."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, Mattie. Or have you tried it?"

Mathew looked at Gilbert, slightly annoyed. "I know that as a rule I am very polite, but my citizens have a history of civil disobedience. Sure, it's nowhere near as extensive as Alfred's population, but it exists. Several of the more recent riots were over hockey."

In one fluid movement, Gilbert rose to his feet and walked over to the desk. Leaning over, Gilbert said, "That wasn't what I asked and you know it. Have you, Mathew Williams, even been personally arrested?"

Mathew looked down, blushing slightly. He hesitated and Gilbert knew the answer before Mathew replied in a (very) quiet voice. "No, I have never personally been arrested. It's not exactly something I aspire to…"

"Getting arrested is not the fun part, Mattie, although I will admit to some wild times while locked up. No," Prussia tilted his head and looked at Mathew until the other raised his eyes, "it's the activities that get you in jail that is the source of fun. The fact that what you are doing is forbidden or taboo gives a thrill that gets coupled with the possibility of getting caught makes breaking the law so much fun. Actually, I'm a little surprised that you, with your awesome hobby of extreme sports, haven't wanted to walk the edge of legality before."

Mathew knew that a challenge was being thrown quite literally in his face, but he was distracted by Gilbert's steady gaze from mere centimeters away. The red of his eyes were mesmerizing, making getting arrested with this man sound like the best thing in the world. It wasn't like there would be any consequences for him, Mathew thought, reasoning this out. What would the government do, jail the personification of their own country? And if it was as much fun getting there as Gilbert said it would be… Mathew thought all this while slowly leaning in to Gilbert, his eyes dropping to the other man's mouth without any active thought on Mathew's part. _Yeah, the forbidden never sounded so good…_

The ringing of the telephone startled Mathew, forcing a small 'eep' out of him as he cleared his mind of the joys of delinquency. It also got Mathew away from Gilbert, who similarly stepped away from the desk. They both flushed as Mathew turned to answer the telephone next to his computer and Gilbert busied himself with picking up the book. While Mathew talked to his bosses about the work he had just finished, Gilbert frantically tried to figure out what just happened. He didn't break any of his rules (that he hadn't already thrown out earlier that day), yet he was about two seconds away from jumping the other man. And the worse part about it was that Mathew looked all too willing to be jumped.

How did it even get to that point? One minute they were talking about hockey games and the next Gilbert was leaning across Mathew's antique desk, ready to kiss the man senseless. _I need to revise my rules, because this isn't working._

Mathew got off the phone as Gilbert, who had been staring at the book in his hands without really seeing it for several moments, put Wilde's classic on the corner of Mathew's desk. Determined to act like nothing out of the ordinary just happened, Gilbert rushed to say something first.

He raised his eyebrow and said, "That was fast."

Mathew blew out a sigh and ran a hand through this hair. "My boss just wanted to thank me for my hard work during my first vacation in years. Do you want some lunch? We've been up here a while…"

"Lunch sounds awesome."

Getting up from his comfortable office chair, Mathew walked around his desk, only to stop at the corner where Gilbert was standing to look quizzically at the other man. "What's wrong, Gil?"

_I want to kiss you_, he thought. Quirking his lips up into a softened version of his trademark smirk, Gilbert said, "I think I just thought of something even better than Mattie to call you."

Huffing quietly, Mathew continued towards the door. "Do I want to know?"

Following at Canada's heels, Prussia laughed. "I give all my friends nicknames."

Mathew couldn't help but smile at the sound of being Gilbert's friend, ignoring whatever just happened moments ago. It was a good thing that Mathew was leading the way to the kitchen, otherwise his smile would have been seen and embarrassment would have followed. As it was, Mathew downright grinned, but he kept a reluctant tone in his voice as he responded. "Well, what is it, Gil?"

"Birdie."

Mathew abruptly stopped and turned around, causing Gilbert to run into him. The both struggled for balance for a moment, but eventually stabilized with Gilbert griping Mathew's biceps. "Sorry, Gil, but what? Why Birdie?"

Gilbert released Mathew and stepped back from the Canadian. "Well, you keep making these cute little 'eep' sounds. It was either going to be 'Monkey' or 'Birdie' and since birds are the most awesome kind of animal, I decided on Birdie."

Mathew flushed and opened his mouth to protest but decided against it. "I would protest but, considering what you said, it could be worse. Just, if people ask, don't tell them why that name. I'm embarrassed enough as it is about my tendency to make that sound. So let's just keep this between us, eh?"

"Awesome. Now, what's for lunch?"

*break*

Mathew and Gilbert walked through the entrance to the ice rink. The rink was part of a public recreation complex which, according to Mathew, also contained a swimming pool and tennis courts. They were housed in a separate building, much to Gilbert's relief. The smell of chlorine made his left eye twitch.

Mathew was a little apprehensive. While the conduct of the players was one reason why he disliked coming to these games, his intense reaction to them was also bothersome. He tended to get annoyed at the referees when they didn't call a clear penalty. Mathew knew that Gilbert didn't mind it when he lost his composure, but he didn't want to get into an altercation over hockey tonight.

Gilbert, meanwhile, was focused on staying awake. The jet lag, while not as severe as it would have been in a human, hit him hard. It probably didn't help that he was unable to get a good night's rest the past two nights. If it were like last night, he would have just pled exhaustion and went to sleep early. But it was clear that hockey was really important to Mathew and he didn't want to not understand something so vital to the other. Despite what Mathew said earlier about this particular game, when he went over some basic hockey rules with Gilbert in the afternoon, Gilbert could tell that the Canadian was a little excited to go to a game. It would be supremely unawesome if Gilbert couldn't stay awake for this.

"Mr. Williams!"

Mathew turned to see a stout man approaching him. Mathew immediately recognized the bright brown eyes and round face of the man coming closer. Smiling, he opened his arms to welcome the man to a hug. "I told you that you could call me Mathew. How are you, Rudy?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the man embracing his friend. He then immediately covered his emotions with his egotistical mask, customary smirk in place. It felt strange to have to specifically think about showing this side of himself. Surely two days had not put him completely out of practice.

Mathew pulled back from Rudy, a pleasant smile still on his face. "It's been so long! How are Alyssa and the kids?"

Rudy laughed a deep, rumbling laugh. "They are fine, we all are. Rebecca just started medical school and Kim's a second year at the University of Toronto."

"Wow, that's great. I can't believe that they grew up so fast!"

"Don't all kids? But enough about me and mine. How have you been, Mr. Williams? I was surprised to receive your call about tickets for this game. I know that you disagree with how they are run."

"I planned to take my friend here to a local hockey game when I knew he was coming into town and this was the only game for another week. And imagine my surprise when he told me he had never been to a game! Rudy, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt, my friend. Gilbert this is Rudy Johnson, the co-chair of the APH. I've known him for… a very long time."

Gilbert took Rudy's offered hand. "It's good to see Mr. Williams with friends." In a lower voice he added, "I've known him since I was a kid and he's always been by himself. I'm glad that's not the case anymore."

Releasing the other's hand, Gilbert dropped his mask, feeling comfortable enough to say, "Nice to meet you. I promise, as long as he lets me stay, Birdie won't be alone anymore."

Rudy raised his eyebrows. "Birdie?"

Mathew's face was instantly red and he coughed into his hand. "So! Do you have the tickets?"

With a wry grin, Rudy gave Mathew the tickets that he paid for despite the insistence of Rudy that they would be free. "Here you go, Mr. Williams. I have some work to do, but please enjoy the game."

"See you, Rudy. Please say hello for me to Alyssa and the girls."

"Will do, Mr. Williams. Will do." With that, Rudy left the two alone in the increasingly crowded lobby.

Before retreating down the hallway to his office, Rudy Johnson looked back the red-faced man who had barely changed since his childhood and his companion who stared at the other like he was the only one in the room. _Maybe there's hope for Mr. Williams, yet. Just wait until I tell Alyssa about this one…_

*break*

"You okay, Birdie? You look a little feverish."

Mathew huffed out a breath, making the wayward curl in front of his face fly up for a second. "I'm fine, just a little embarrassed."

Gilbert frowned. "If the name makes you that uncomfortable, I could just call you Birdie when we're alone."

Mathew knew he would be more comfortable with this, but he knew the name was a sign that they were friends and wasn't sure that he wanted to give up the little indicator when they were out doing something. "It's fine, Gil. It will just take some getting used to. Now, come on, let's go find our seats."

Gilbert followed Mathew through the lobby, quietly pleased that he could still call Mathew Birdie. It would be clear to anyone that hears him that he was close to Mathew and if it made them think that there was something more than friendship between the nations, so be it.

After showing their tickets at the door, Mathew had an increasingly difficult time moving anywhere. The room was crowded and he always let people moving in front of him go first. Keenly aware of his lack of presence, he did not wish to be mowed down by people rushing to get snacks or find a seat before the game started.

Gilbert was starting to see a pattern. Mathew would jump out of the way of someone rushing past that didn't appear to notice him. People went out of their way to move around Gilbert as his face changed from a smirk to a scowl. After about two minutes, Gilbert's patience was blown.

Gilbert put his arm around Mathew's shoulder and glared at the person who was about to walk into Mathew. The young man, now able to see what almost happened, backed up with his hands raised, clearly conveying the universal _Dude, no harm, no foul. _ Finally, the pair was able to move through the crowd at a steady pace.

"Gil-"

"Yes, Birdie?" Gilbert lost his scowl for moment to quirk an eyebrow at the Canadian.

Mathew was going to ask about the arm around his shoulders, but they were moving somewhere. Giving a sigh full of resignation, Mathew looped his arm around Gilbert's waist and said, "You're going the wrong way."

*break*

"Oh, _come on_, refs! A damn newborn would be able to see that was charging! If you're not going to call offsides at _least_ call that!"

Gilbert knew what Mathew was talking about when he said those terms, but he was so busy trying to keep up with the puck that he really didn't see the actions that got Mathew so irritated. Of course, Mathew being irritated was also something to see. The usually sedate Canadian was red faced with puffy cheeks and waving arms. His voice was actually audible; a sure sign that shit hit the fan. Gilbert glanced at the time clock. They were only five minutes into the first period. _We'll be lucky if my quiet Canadian doesn't start a riot before we leave. Well, not _my _Canadian but… fuck._

The possibility of a riot was starting to look more and more probable as Gilbert looked back at the crowd behind then. Their tickets placed them next to the glass, so Gilbert was able to see everyone. People were starting to become just as irritated as Mathew. They were much more audible about it, of course, but no less angry. Gilbert liked making trouble, but riots weren't his idea of a good time. They were destructive chaos, not fun that just went outside society's parameters. The crowd behind him was beginning to have the looks of a mob and that was concerning.

What struck Gilbert as odd was how a couple people in the stands would shout something then look confused as to why they shouted it. Gilbert looked to Mathew and back to one woman who seemed to jump between rage and confusion. _Mein Gott, what if…_

"Birdie." No answer. "Mattie." Still nothing. "Mathew Williams!" Grabbing Mathew's shoulders, he forcibly turned the other around to look at him. Mathew's eyes were nearly purple and his face was flushed in a disturbingly familiar way. Unfortunately, it wasn't an amorous passion that made him look like this. No, it was an increasingly violent one.

"What!" Mathew snapped at Gilbert, although immediately afterwards his eyes widened. "I'm sorry Gil. What is it?"

Gilbert immediately noticed a decrease in volume from the people behind him. _Fuck, it looks like I'm right._ "We need to leave, Birdie. Right now."

"But the game just-"

Gilbert placed a fingertip on Mathew's lips to silence him. Mathew's eyes widened further. "Do you trust me?"

Mathew looked at the seriousness of Gilbert's face and seemed to consider his answer for a moment. _Can I trust him? I've known him for only two days but I _feel _like I can trust him. And, God, he is so serious right now. In this moment, how could I not?_

Gilbert held his breath for the few seconds when Mathew didn't move or say anything. Removing his finger from the other's mouth, he was barely able to hear the soft, "Yes, I trust you."

With serious eyes, Gilbert nodded his thanks and pulled Mathew by the hand to the nearest exit, not caring that they would have to walk around in the cool night air in order to reach the car.

"Gil, this isn't the right exit."

"I know. I think a little air would do us some good."

Stepping outside through the back exit, Gilbert let out a sigh. "Are those games always so crowded?"

Mathew frowned. "No. This game was the championship game for this age level in the APH. And with the NHL lockdown, people are probably trying to get in what hockey they can. Why do you ask?"

"When was the last time you were around that many humans in an enclosed space?"

"The last year's Stanley Cup Finals in Vancouver. Why-?"

"Did there happen to be a riot that night?"

Mathew stopped, forcing Gilbert to stop, too. There were still holding the other's hand through neither had notice up to this point. "What are you saying, Gil?"

"I'm saying that there may be more than one reason we're not supposed to interact with a large number of humans."

*break*

Mathew silent as he drove home, floored with this realization. _Was I the cause of all those riots? Were those people's injuries and the damages to property entirely my fault? _ Mathew didn't know, but he certainly wasn't planning on going out anytime soon.

Gilbert, however, was concerned about Mathew. His face had only become closed and clouded as the minutes passed since Gilbert last spoke. Whatever he was thinking, it could not be good. Gilbert was beginning to feel desperate that Mathew say or do something, _anything_, besides stare at the road in silence. "Back when I had a kingdom, I was around my people a lot."

Mathew startled. Gilbert never talked about the past. "Gil-"

"I always thought that the fights that broke out were a normal part of village life. Life was hard for everyone back then so the release of tension through fighting looked like a logical action in an age before books or, hell, literacy. But, Birdie, I was different than I am now. At my core, I was the most confrontational person you would ever want to meet. I thrived on battle and every war was like a special kind of treat to me. I can't help but wonder if those fights that struck me as normal were in fact my fault."

"Gil, you didn't know."

Gilbert looked at Mathew. "Neither did you. So don't blame yourself for what's happened. We can't change it, so just learn from it, okay?"

Mathew's mouth twitched into something that resembled a smile. "Nice trick."

"It was an _awesome_ trick, but that doesn't make what I said less true. I don't think any one of us knows the effect we have on our people."

"That is concerning. Everyone really should know."

"You have to go to a world meeting soon, right? You should give a presentation or something on this."

Mathew gave a bitter laugh. "If we want the rest of the nations to understand this, I shouldn't be the one making the presentation."

Gilbert looked at Mathew for a silent moment. Mathew could feel the weight of Gilbert's gaze, making him flush and really focus on the road. "Why not?"

"You saw how most humans don't really see me, right? Well it's no different with nations. People only really see me when it's convenient for them or they need something from me. Otherwise they just look right through me. You are one of the few exceptional people that see me all the time."

"Those fuckers."

Mathew snapped his head to Gilbert, surprised by the malice in his voice. "Gil, what's wrong? It's not their fault they don't see me. I'm not the most notable person around and-"

"Don't give me that, Birdie. You are the second largest nation in the world. Sure, you're quiet, but that doesn't excuse them from not seeing you. It is entirely their fault for being unawesome assholes. Don't defend them, okay?"

"Some nations can see me. Nate, the Netherlands, began to see me after the Second World War. Carlos, Cuba, sees me, even if he sometimes mistakes me for Alfred and tries to beat me up-" Mathew caught Gilbert's dark look "-and this is not helping my case."

"No, it really isn't."

With nothing else to really say about this, Mathew changed the topic. "Well, so much for showing you the joys of hockey."

Gilbert took in Mathew's defeated expression (and accepted the topic change) and had an idea. "You could always just teach me to play."

"Gil, that's a great idea! I don't know why I didn't think that before. We should talk about when we should start." Mathew pulled up to his house and parked. "Do you want something to eat first or-"

"Uh, actually, I'm a little tired. I haven't been sleeping well and the jet lag finally hit me."

"I'm sorry. Please, go to sleep. I didn't mean to wear you out-"

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it's just jet lag."

"Alright…" They walked into the house only to be greeted by a polar bear cub and a small yellow bird. Kumajiro was nowhere to be seen. Gilbert, closely followed by Gilbird, began to head up the stairs.

"Don't make too many plans. Remember that tomorrow is my turn to show you an awesome time. Goodnight, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Gil." Mathew shook his head at what possible activities they would get up to the next night. _Although_, he thought scathingly, _I doubt it will be worse than my attempt tonight._

Mathew picked up Maple Leaf and tried to block out the implications of what he had learned tonight. _It could wait until tomorrow_, Mathew decided. _It could all wait until tomorrow._

*break*

Gilbert was exhausted, but he needed to change his rules before he saw Mathew again. A lot had changed over the course of one day. He had already thrown out more than one rule and did some things not covered by them that were concerning, so this was kind of an emergency situation. He just had to make this quick since he was about ten minutes from falling asleep standing.

After brushing his teeth, Gilbert took out his journal, scribbling frantically.

**Awesome Journal,**

**The rules I made before turned out not to be awesome enough to deal with the force of Birdie's presence. (Mattie is Birdie now, by the way!) Anyway, these are some quick changes:**

**Five and Nine are null and void.**

**Avoid any situation where it is more natural to seduce Birdie than just talk to him.**

**Uh, my brain is too unawesomely tired to think anymore! Gott verdammt jet lag. These will have to do for now.**

**Awesome Me**

That done (although half-assly, Gilbert would admit), Gilbert barely had the energy to put his journal away and bid Gillbird goodnight before falling on the bed, asleep before he hit the mattress.

A/N: I'm sorry, guys. Life happened and writer's block is a bitch.

Anyway, the good news is spring break starts on Saturday so I might actually be able to write during the week. Well, not this week. This week is shit.

Did anyone see that coming? I thought that it was going to be more about hockey but then this riot scenario got into my head and I couldn't get it out. But Mattie teaching Gil how to play will be fun, right? Can you tell I don't know what I'm doing? :D

Song: "Riot" by Three Days Grace (I just had to)

Until next week (which will be the club scene ^_^).

darkhuntress13


	10. Ch 9: Comfort and Cooking

I don't own, Hetalia.

Before you all get angry at the brevity, read the author's note, okay? Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Comfort and Cooking

Mathew sat at his kitchen table. It was 5:30 in the morning and the sun had not yet risen. He stared unseeingly into his cooling cup of maple flavored coffee, his thoughts looping around the implications of what he had learned last night. For years, Mathew had gravitated to large population centers and events, being a part of a crowd for just a few hours before retreating to his solitude. Even then, he had been invisible to those around him, but he was still able to be _there_, in the middle of it all. But now it looked like he never would be able to do so again.

Mathew's mind kept returning to a few memorable riots in his recent history. The Guns 'n' Roses concerts… that worker's strike… those hockey games. _Oh, God, those hockey games, _Mathew thought in despair. He put his head in his hands dejectedly as the most pressing thought that he tried to block out screamed through his head: he would never be able to attend another hockey game.

Don't misunderstand Mathew. The guilt he felt over the injuries of his people and the damages to property which _may have very well been his fault _was like a fist tightening around his heart. The pain of it brought tears to his eyes. In order to do his best for his people, he would have to give up one of the few joys of his life. He liked the other extreme sports he did in his spare time, but they were all individual activities, so fundamentally different from hockey that they would never fill the void. Neither would just watching a game on the television; so much of the energy that Mathew craved was lost through a broadcast. The realization took his breath away.

His brain scrambled to find a way around this limitation, this personal sacrifice. _Gil was with me last night,_ he remembered. _He stopped me from causing trouble._ Momentarily, Mathew's spirits were lifted; he could still go to games, he just needed a… spotter of sorts. It took all of an instant for this hope to be crushed. _Gil's going to leave._

While Gilbert had yet to specify the length of his stay, he would leave eventually. He would go back to Europe to be with his family, his numerous friends. He would soon be bored with Mathew, so used to the wild antics of his European friends back home. Soon, he would too forget the nation of Canada even existed just like everyone else, and Mathew would be left alone again, unseen for years, decades. Nothing like this could last, Mathew knew from experience. This happiness he had was fleeting and Mathew could see no solution as to how he could hold on to it for longer.

The Canadian silently sobbed at his kitchen table, unable to find a path that didn't lead to his own personal hell.

*break*

Gilbert woke refreshed. While his night was not dreamless, it lacked the disturbing nightmares that plagued him previously. Gilbert moved to stretch, only to find his movements limited by the clothing he wore yesterday.

Laughing quietly to himself, Gilbert stripped off his clothes and grabbed his towel in the early morning light. Gilbert looked out the window to see a beautiful morning with the sun not far above the horizon, pleased that for once the weather matched his mood. Of course, it was rare that he was happy or even awake in the mornings, but that was neither here nor there.

But he really couldn't think of anything to be upset with at the moment. Gilbert thought about his state of affairs while going through the motions of his shower. Sure, Roderich had ripped his heart out earlier in the week and he was avoiding everyone he knew and loved, but was that really so bad? It didn't feel like it at the moment. If Austria had been anything less than cruel about Gilbert's feelings, the Prussian doubted that he ever would have met the Canadian, which would have been a tragedy. The quiet man was polite but passionate and had the unusual ability to keep Gilbert on his toes. When the two were quiet together like yesterday when Mathew had to work and Gilbert was reading, Gilbert felt content just by being in the other's presence. Plus, Gilbert had Mathew's pancakes to look forward to.

With a now damp towel around his waist, Gilbert was heading back to his room when he had the urge to knock on Mathew's closed door. Never one to resist the more harmless impulses, Gilbert knocked on Mathew's door with a soft, "Birdie?"

There was no answer and Gilbert cautiously opened the door a little, subconsciously hoping that Mathew was still asleep (and ignoring the possibility of breaking his first rule in dealing with Mathew). To Gilbert's surprise (and slight disappointment), Mathew wasn't even in his room. The clock read 7:30, so Mathew couldn't be far. Gilbert doubted that much was open at such an early hour and strained his ears for the tell-tale sounds of Mathew cooking. When all he found was silence, concern started to grow in his gut. Gilbert checked the office only to find it empty. It was then that Gilbert remembered their discoveries last night and the look on Mathew's face as he drove home. After just a few days with Mathew, Gilbert knew it would be the Canadian's nature to dwell on what happened.

Forgetting that he was clad in only a towel, Gilbert hurried to the stairs asking loudly, "Birdie!?"

Mathew was startled from his daze at the kitchen table by Gilbert's exclamation and rushed footsteps. After he had cried for some time, Mathew sat numbly at the table, drained of emotions and energy to do anything but sit. Kumajiro had come in and laid his head on Mathew's shoulder at some point, but he didn't remember when. In fact, he had no idea how long he had sat there, but it was time to get up. He would be damned if Gilbert saw him like this. No need to drive the nation away with his emotional problems sooner than necessary. Taking his almost full cup of cold coffee to the sink, Mathew gathered himself to shoo in Kumajiro out of the kitchen with a pat on the head and respond with a weak, "Yes, Gil?"

Of course, Gilbert didn't hear Mathew speak over his own heartbeat, but he did hear the sound of running water from the kitchen. One hand clutching the now loose towel (and barely noticing the large polar bear exiting the back door), Gilbert ran to the kitchen, almost falling with his slightly damp feet on the wood and tile of the floors. Seeing Mathew with his back turned to him, Gilbert rushed to Canada's side in order to turn the other man to face him.

Mathew was surprised at the sudden movement and didn't have time to mask his face. His eyes held the same desolate resignation that chilled Gilbert when they first met and at the arcade. In addition to this, Mathew's eyes were puffy and red and his skin was unnaturally pale. Tear tracks, long dried, were still slightly visible on is his cheeks. It broke something in Gilbert so see Mathew look so… hopeless.

Internally, Mathew cursed. He was going to use the still running water to wash away both his cold coffee and the salt on his face, but he only had time for the coffee before Gilbert turned him around. Now it was obvious that he had been crying and was basically an emotional wreck. Frantically, Mathew tried to play it off. With a sorry attempt of a smile, Mathew said, "Good morning, Gil. I was just having some coffee-"

Mathew was cut off by a hug. One minute he was looking at the counter to avoid the concern in Gilbert's eyes and the next he being embraced by the very person he was hoping to avoid. While the grip was only with one arm, its strength surprised Mathew, instantly informing him that if he wanted to get away it was going to be a fight. Not one for confrontation, Mathew tried to speak. "Gil? I'm fine, really. I just-"

Gilbert just hugged Mathew tighter and shook his head. If the way Mathew looked bothered him, the utter normalcy of his voice was alarming. How often did Mathew feel this way in order to perfect this utterly polite, kind voice when he looked like the world had just come crashing down around his feet? To be this perfect at it, Gilbert knew, it took a couple human lifetimes. How could one so young be so adept at it? Gilbert didn't wish to ponder it any further.

Meanwhile, Mathew struggled to figure out where to put his hands. It hadn't taken long into the hug to realize that Gilbert was half naked and fresh from the shower. To add insult to injury, Mathew just didn't receive that many hugs. The one last night from Rudy was exceptional and it was usually years between hugs for Mathew. It left the Canadian stiff and unyielding, no matter how much he was coming to appreciate the comforting gesture. It had been a long time since anyone bothered to comfort him.

Gilbert finally realized the state of his undress. Jumping away from Mathew like he had been burned, Gilbert adjusted his towel and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, give me a second, Birdie." With that the Prussian all but flew upstairs, tipping in his haste.

Mathew stared after him for a second, his cheeks regaining some color as a short laugh escaped him. Leave it to Gil to forget that he was half naked. Spirits slightly lifted, Mathew splashed cold water on his face and began getting out the ingredients for pancakes.

*break*

Gilbert couldn't help but blush at his actions as he hastily pulled on some clothes and ruffled his hair with a towel. He had pulled a Feliciano! Okay, so he wasn't completely naked when he hugged the other man but still! And Feliciano stopped hugging others naked that last time after Ludwig almost had an aneurism… But getting back to the point, Gilbert was supposed to comfort the Canadian, not molest him. _I have to fix this_, he thought. _I need to help him. Or at least cheer him up, a little._

After throwing on his iron cross pendant, Gilbert hurried back to the kitchen to see a much more composed Canadian mixing some ingredients in a bowl. Gilbert frowned until an idea came to him.

"Let me cook, Birdie."

Determined to show that he was alright, Mathew quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "You cook, Gil?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Mathew. _I see how it is, Birdie. But I have perfected the show-'em-a-strong-face technique since before you were born. Two can play that game._ "Of course I do, Birdie. What made you think otherwise?"

"The utter lack of domestic skill that you have displayed thus far?"

"Are you going to make me pout about it? Because I'm sure I could conjure one up in a second and-"

"No! Not that! Okay, how about a compromise? I can teach you how to make pancakes. This way you get to cook and I get to make sure that what you cook is edible."

"Harsh, Birdie, harsh. But the awesome me accepts your compromise."

The corner of Mathew's mouth twitched at Gilbert's proclamation and Gilbert internally cheered himself. _This might just work, _he told himself.

*break*

Mathew stared up at the man sprawled on top of him in mild disbelief. They were both covered in flour with splotches of batter here and there. Mathew tried to remember how he got in this situation.

The cooking lesson began well, with Mathew explaining what went into the batter when and how Gilbert was supposed to butter the pan. Then, when it came to Gilbert actually doing stuff, all hell broke loose. First, Gilbert managed to trip over his own feet when he was carrying a cup of flower from the sink to the island, covering them both in the stuff. Then, when Mathew wasn't looking, Gilbert got the idea that the pancakes would be better if he used a machine mixer rather than stirring the batter by hand like Mathew always did. But he set the thing on a too high setting and ended up splattering half the batter on the counter and the two nations. What batter Mathew was able to save, Gilbert managed to burn half the pancakes as Mathew tried to clean up the disaster zone of a kitchen. The coup de grace was when Gilbert, carrying the mixture of burned and decent pancakes to the table, slipped on a wayward splotch of batter, taking Mathew down with him. Mathew craned his neck to see if any pancakes had survived the fall. Sure enough, two out of five remained on the now broken plate. Of course, one of them was burned.

Gilbert looked at Mathew with a groan as he started to get himself off of the other. He tried, he really did, but everything had just gone wrong so fast. Going a little red with embarrassment, Gilbert placed his hand on the floor next to Mathew… only to have it slip out from under him, leaving the Prussian flush against the Canadian. Trying his damndest not to focus on how well they fit together or how toned Mathew felt beneath him, Gilbert tried to get up again. After succeeding in getting his body weight off the other man, Gilbert spotted the scattered pancakes and broken plate. "I'm sorry I-"

Gilbert cut himself off as he noticed a fine trembling in Mathew's body and his quickly reddening face. Alarmed and slightly aroused Gilbert started to ask, "Birdie! Are you o-"

Mathew burst out laughing. Gilbert stared down at Mathew in shock. The Canadian was actually laughing at him. In fact, Mathew clutched his sides and tears began to leak from his eyes. This was a laugh no one could fake. Gilbert, relieved to see Mathew so joyous after he looked so lost, gathered false indignation. "Are you laughing at me, Birdie?"

Mathew had to bite his lip to contain himself enough to answer the question. "Yes, I am. You got a problem with it?"

"Well what if I do?"

"Then that's just too bad, eh?"

Gilbert's eyes widened. Then determination crossed his face and Mathew became a little wary. Gilbert thought it was his time for revenge. "Are you ticklish, Birdie?"

Mathew's eyes widened. He was extremely ticklish. "No-"

"Well let's test that."

Gilbert attacked Mathew's sides, causing the Canadian to give a roar of laughter and arch his back in an attempt to get away. His face got impossibly redder and he squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. "Ah-Gil-please-haha-stop! Hahahaha stop!"

Gilbert stopped but not because Mathew asked him to. His jeans were starting to get a little tight watching Mathew writhe underneath him and he needed to not be doing this anymore to keep from jumping on the Canadian for things nowhere near as innocent as tickling. With a smirk, Gilbert got up from Mathew. "As you wish, Birdie."

Mathew froze for a second, immediately recalling one of his favorite movies from the 1980s. Gilbert offered Mathew a hand up from the floor which the Canadian took, dismissing his thoughts on _The Princess Bride_. He doubted Gilbert would make such a cheesy reference if he even felt that way about him. Which was impossible anyway. Yep, impossible.

Gilbert had never actually seen _The Princess Bride_, so he was unaware of how his words affected the Canadian. He looked at the pancakes on the floor in despair. "Well, so much for breakfast."

"You know I'm going to get revenge, right?"

"For what?"

"For the tickling."

Gilbert smirked at the man. "Oh, really? How are you going to do that, Birdie? I'm not ticklish like you."

For some reason, Mathew believed him. Mathew looked around the kitchen, shaking his head as he said, distractedly, "Oh, don't worry about it. It will come in an unexpected way at an unexpected time…"

"What-?"

"How about we clean up then go out to breakfast, okay?"

"Alright… By the way," Gilbert said as he hugged the Canadian from behind. Mathew immediately stiffened then forced himself to relax. "If you need to talk to me, I'm here, okay?" Stepping away from Mathew, Gilbert looked around the kitchen with a grimace. "Let's get started so we can go eat."

Gilbert had succeeded in cheering up Mathew, yet now he had to be on his toes for any future revenge Mathew might cook up. This was a slightly alarming prospect, as Gilbert looked at the now relaxed and happy Canadian out of the corner of his eye as he cleaned, it was worth it.

Now here's to hoping that what he had planned for the night would not undo all his hard work…

A/N: First off, thank you for all the support I have been receiving. You guys rock my socks.

Before you all kill me for not writing the club scene yet, let me explain. This section was supposed to be the introduction to the chapter, taking up no more than 3 pages. Yeah, it's almost twice as long. So this has become a stand along chapter since I don't think I will be able to write another 10 pages before midnight and I always like to give you guys something on Monday.

But the good news fairy is here. Because I'm on spring break, you can expect the next chapter… TOMORROW! So until then… please be content with this.

Song: "Missing" by Evanescence for Mathew at the beginning. I know it's not exactly right but it's the best I have for now.

Hasta mañana.

darkhuntress13


	11. Ch 10: In The Zone

I don't own Hetalia or any of the songs used in this chapter… or any chapter for that matter.

Chapter 10: In the Zone

Gilbert adjusted his sleeves as he waited for Mathew to come down stairs. It was 10 pm on a Saturday night and they had places to be.

Gilbert ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, disturbing Gilbird in the process. He frowned, forgetting his feathered companion was there in his anxiousness. "Hey, Gilbird. You can't hang with us tonight, my man. I don't think the club would be able to handle both of our awesome presences. Why don't you chill with Kumajiro for the night?"

Gilbird extracted himself from the little nest he made and gave a long suffering chirp. Despite the chick's attitude, Gilbird snuggled up to one of Gilbert's cheeks in farewell before zooming off to find Kumajiro who was somewhere in the house for once.

Gilbert went to go grab his phone to check the time only to remember that he didn't have one. Of course, it had probably only been fifteen minutes since he came downstairs himself but he was ready to roll. It was extremely difficult convincing the Canadian to go out with him after their revelations from last night. So, the sooner he had some concrete evidence that Mathew was going to actually enjoy his choice of entertainment, the better.

Dressed in a black button up shirt, new black jeans, his riding boots (which were the only shoes he brought with him) and his ever present necklace, Gilbert began to pace, needing an outlet for his energy. After about two minutes, Maple Leaf wandered over the entryway between the foyer and the living room. For once, the little bear did not say anything; she just watched Gilbert pace. It didn't help the Prussian's anxiety levels.

Meanwhile, Mathew was debating his attire for the tenth time. The last time Mathew had been to a dance club was in the 1970s with Alfred and he was damn sure that styles had changed since the age of disco.

At a loss, Mathew tried to go with modern. Gilbert told him to dress relatively nice, so Mathew was wearing a dark blue button up shirt, black slacks and dress shoes. The shirt really brought out the color of his eye and the slacks fit him well. Mathew had attempted to tame the curl in front of his face but to no avail. He was in desperate need of a haircut (it almost reached his shoulders now) but there was nothing he could do about that now. With one last look at himself in the mirror, Mathew grabbed his wallet and phone and headed down the stairs to meet Gilbert.

What he found was a pacing demon. Goodness, if Mathew was an overly religious person, he would be more than a little wary about going anywhere with Gilbert. Dressed in all black, his overly pale skin almost seemed to glow and the crimson of his eyes seemed darker, more alive. Combined with a handsome face and the feline grace with which he moved, Gilbert had an otherworldly beauty about him. The kind that would fuck you senseless before your throat was ripped out.

Mathew suppressed a shiver and the insecurities over his appearance doubled. He cleared his throat as he finished coming down the stairs, halting Gilbert's steps and drawing attention to him. "Is what I'm wearing alright? Cause if it's not I'll go change-"

"You look awesome, Birdie," Gilbert said, the look in his eyes unreadable to Mathew. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

*break*

Mathew eyed the line into the club. It was around the corner and contained people dressed in various states of undress. Okay, the _women_ were in various states of undress while the men were dressed similarly to Gilbert and Mathew. _Good call on the clothing, Gil,_ Mathew thought. They were approaching the club from the far side of the line which Mathew was not keen on waiting in. Still, he was surprised when Gilbert bypassed the end of the turn to reach the end of the line and continued towards the door.

"Uh, Gil?"

"Yes, Birdie?"

"Don't we have to wait to get in?"

Gilbert smirked. "Oh, Birdie. You really haven't been out in a while have you?"

"Well, no…"

"You know that symbol on our passports and ID cards? It puts us on the guest list everywhere that has one. And I called ahead just in case things were done differently here. Either way, we can go straight to the door."

"What? How does that even work?"

"Francy-Pants and Tony got it pushed through at one of those pointless meetings you go to in the 1980s. It's in all the clauses of building permits to admit 'dignitaries' with the nations' symbol immediately. I know that people sometimes don't actually do anything about what's decided at those world meetings so I called ahead."

"Huh."

"Awesome, right?"

Mathew nodded as the approached the bouncers outside of the door. The both looked large and in charge in black shirts and black cargo pants. Both were as muscular as Ludwig which was impressive. They looked like identical twins with the same features and dark skin. The one on the right spoke. "The line starts around the corner, boys."

"We're on the list."

The one on the left was holding the list on a clip board. "Names and IDs please."

Gilbert handed over his driver's license. "Gilbert Beilschmidt and Mathew Williams."

The guard saw the symbol on Gilbert's license and handed it back to him quickly. Mathew offered his ID but the guard said, "No need, Mr. Williams. You're both clear. If you show your ID's at the VIP entrance they will let you in."

"Thank you, sirs," Mathew said, always polite.

"Ja, danke." Taking Mathew's hand, Gilbert pulled him towards the opening door. "Welcome to my world, Birdie."

*break*

The first think Mathew noticed was the noise. When he had walked/been dragged through the door, it felt like he had run into a wall of sound. To go from the relative quiet of outside to this left Mathew a little dazed. It was a good thing Gilbert had his hand or he might have just stood in entry way, waiting for his ears to adjust to this onslaught of music.

Then his eyes burned from flash of the strobe light ruining the night vision that he had acquired from the drive over and the stroll outside. The white globes floating in his vision from the rapid changes of light intensity were given color by the multicolored lasers zooming around the room. Mathew closed his eyes and tightened his hold on to Gilbert's hand, trusting him to lead them through the mess of lights in front of them. Now he could focus on the beat that thrummed through his body with every base note of the fast paced song. He couldn't catch the lyrics and didn't recognize the tune, but the feel of the music was enough to make him want to move to it, just a little.

Gilbert looked back at Mathew at the increase of pressure on his hand. Seeing that he had closed his eyes, Gilbert led Mathew to the nearest available seat and sat him down. Leaning in close to the other so that he could be heard over the music, he yelled, "Are you okay!?"

Mathew slit his eyes opened and stared at Gilbert for a second, seeing his eyes completely opened and his body completely at ease despite the sensory overload that overwhelmed Mathew. "How are you not blinded by the lights?"

Mathew talked in his normal voice which was difficult to hear under normal circumstances. Now it was impossible. Gilbert wished he could read lips. "What did you say!?"

"The lights!" This came out at the volume of most people's inside voices.

"What!?"

"THE-" _Oh, fuck it,_ Mathew thought. He made a motion to shield his eyes from the lights then gestured to Gilbert hoping that the Prussian understood him.

Gilbert, thankfully, did. "I'm just used to it, that's all! Let's find some drinks, okay!?"

Mathew nodded his head then put a hand on Gilbert's shoulder to still him. Then he put his mouth right next to his ear and yelled as hard as he could. "CAN WE FIND THE VIP AREA!? IT MIGHT BE QUIETER!"

Gilbert actually heard this, so he nodded and searched with a practiced eye for the entrance to the VIP section. Spotting the entrance, Gilbert yelled, "I'll lead you there but keep your eyes open! You need to adjust so you can see!"

Mathew nodded and squinted as best he could. Taking Mathew's hand, Gilbert led them through the mass of sweaty patrons as they took a break from dancing. Gilbert thanked God that the entrance to their intended destination was not by the dance floor which was packed with people living their Saturday up.

The bouncer guarding the VIP entrance looked down at Gilbert. He was a tall man of possible Hispanic decent and looked like he knew how to keep things under control. "ID's please!"

Gilbert presented his license once again only to have it handed back to him almost immediately. The bouncer stepped out of the way and opened the door for them. There was a stairway that led upstairs and Gilbert happily led Mathew through. Once the door was closed behind them, the sound level dropped to a reasonable level and the strobe effect was lost. Gilbert was able to talk in his normal voice. "Is this what you wanted?"

"This is just fine, Gil." Mathew dropped Gilbert's hand, able to maneuver himself without difficulty. "Are clubs always like this?"

"No, not always. It probably doesn't help that it's Saturday. Come on."

The two climbed the stairs until they reached the plush region that had to be the VIP section. The royal purple carpet was thick enough that one could feel their feet sink a little with every step. There were various black and white chaise lounges and chairs placed around the room. The tables and accent pillows were silver and the art adorning the wall was tasteful. The most startling feature of the room was the full length window on the left side that gave a perfect view of the dance floor, lasers and all. The best part about it was that the lighting effects did not carry over into this room. Gilbert recalled large mirrors above the dance floor. _Clever,_ Gilbert thought. A two way mirror let the VIP's watch what was happening while keeping them apart from it. It also reflected the light effects that left Mathew blind.

Gilbert sat down on one of the black chaises that were close to the window. From this vantage point, he was able to take in the layout of the club. The bar downstairs was not far from where he sat Mathew down earlier. He could see rows and rows of well organized liquor, back lit with shifting colors to create a stunning effect. The dance floor was full of people but he could see the individually lit squares underneath them that comprised the actual floor. In addition to this, he several raised platforms in and around the dance floor which had the more adventurous humans dancing on them. The DJ was placed just off the side to the dance floor _Not bad, _he thought. _Not bad at all._

Mathew, however, took in the same sight in quiet amazement. _Wow, _he thought. _It's so different yet the same from back then. Of course, I would have been able to see all this if those lights hadn't been so distracting…_

"Excuse me."

Gilbert and Mathew both turned around to see a young woman with short blonde hair and wide brown eyes looking at them. From the looks of her black and white uniform, she was a waitress. "My name is Erica and I'll be serving you tonight. Would either of you like something to drink or eat?"

Gilbert smirked at the girl, getting a slightly flustered looked back. "Perfect timing, Fräulein. Do you serve any German beers?"

Erica thought for a bit then replied. "Yes, sir. We serve Schneider Weisse Original and Paulaner."

"I'll have the Paulaner, bitte."

"And for you, sir?"

"I'll have a whiskey, neat, please."

Gilbert looked at Mathew but Erica took it in stride. "Any particular brand, sir?"

"Crown Royal, if you have it, please."

Erica nodded. "Right away, sirs. Please make yourselves comfortable."

"Thank you, Erica." Mathew sat down on the surprisingly comfortable chaise. It was rare that something that looked so good would also be so comfy.

Gilbert was still looking at him. "What is it, Gil?"

"I just didn't take you as a whiskey guy, that's all."

"Well, I doubt that they serve Sortilege here." When he saw Gilbert's blank look he said, "It's basically Canadian whiskey and maple syrup liquor."

Gilbert laughed and sat down besides Mathew. "You're probably right, but you should ask anyway. I'm actually surprised Francy-pants didn't make you into wine guy."

Mathew laughed, turning towards Gilbert and settling in. "He actually did try but it turns out I'm like my brother in this respect. Alfred has his bourbon and I have my Sortilege. Wine is too…"

"Trust me, Birdie. You don't have to finish that sentence. I more than understand the avoidance of the stuff. I'm Prussian. All I want to drink is beer."

"Oh, come on, Gil. You've got to drink more than that."

"Well, I drink scotch on occasion. And champagne only when absolutely necessary."

"Well what about…"

And so their conversation carried on, moving from alcohol to music to a variety of other topics. Neither one realized that their discourses were observed with great interest by one of the other patrons. Nor did they know how this patron would affect the rest of their evening.

*break*

"Monsieur Williams?"

Mathew looked up to see the shocked face of a co-worker. "Monsieur Deveraux, bonsoir. Comment allez-vous?"

"Comme ci comme ça. Je ne m'attendais pas vous…"

…And this is when Gilbert stopped listening to what was actually said and just focused on the sound of Mathew speaking French. It was different than the Parisian French that he largely understood thanks to spending time with Francis. More sounds were swallowed, making the cadence of speech more rapid than his rusty French could follow easily. A few words were different here and there, but it was still close enough to Parisian French that Gilbert got the jist of what was said. He liked the way Mathew sounded when he spoke his version of French.

The co-workers were speaking for a minute or two about work related things when Mathew looked at Gilbert. "Monsieur Deveraux, I would like you to meet my good friend Gilbert Beilschmidt." Gilbert flinched slightly at his introduction. He didn't want to dwell too much on why, though. "He's staying with me a while."

"It's nice to meet a friend of Monsieur Williams," His accent was different than Mathew's in English. It sounded closer to Alfred's. Gilbert really looked at the man holding his hand out to him. Deveraux was tall, dark and handsome with wavy brown hair and bedroom hazel eyes. He was dressed in tailored slacks and a purple button up shirt that actually made him look good. Gilbert immediately disliked him. Taking the offered hand, Gilbert sneered at the man.

The "nice to meet you," Gilbert responded with clearly didn't match the "fuck off" tone in his voice. The two men's eyes met each other and mutual understanding passed between them in that silent way that guys have. Deveraux wasn't backing down to Gilbert. And that just pissed Prussia off.

Releasing Gilbert's hand, Deveraux purposefully shifted his focus to Mathew, seemingly dismissing Gilbert, but saying, in English mind you, "Well, I hope that you enjoy the rest of your vacation, Monsieur Williams. I don't know how we will survive at the office without you this week."

Mathew laughed, aware of the tension between his co-worker and his friend but unsure what to make of it. He decided to act like nothing was amiss since he didn't know what was wrong. "I'm sure you all will survive just fine without me."

"I don't know about that, Monsieur Williams. I just don't know." After letting his statement hang there for a second, Deveraux continued, "Well, have a good evening."

"You too, Monsieur Deveraux. Drive safely."

"Yeah, see you around, asshole," Gilbert mumbled under his breath, glaring daggers at the other man.

"What did you say, Gil?"

"Nothing, Birdie. But, you know, I just realized that we've been here for at least an hour and we have yet to actually get on the dance floor."

Mathew paled a little. "Uh, Gil, I don't really know how to dance…"

"It's easy, Birdie. All you have to do is move to the beat and let the music guide your actions."

"What?"

"Okay… how about this: I'll dance a song or two down there and you can watch me from up here. I'll get on one of the platforms to make it easy for you to see me one of the songs. That way you can see what I mean when I say 'just move to the beat.' Sound's good?"

"Get on one of the…" Mathew went red just thinking about the embarrassment he would feel dancing on one of the raised platforms. "You don't have to do that Gil. I could easily spot you in a crowd so there is no need to go on one of the platforms…"

"Kesesese, no worries, Birdie. While I appreciate your ability to pick me out of the crowd," Mathew's blush deepened, "I love dancing on tables and the like."

"Well if you're sure."

Gilbert smirked mischievously (which is different than his usual arrogant smirk, by the way). "Oh, yes, Birdie. I'm sure."

Gilbert left the room, eager to show of the skills he had acquired through years of barhopping. Mathew's eyes followed him out of the door, slightly apprehensive for some reason. The ever vigilant patron noticed everything, just as ready to watch Gilbert dance as he was to do so. If Gilbert danced well enough, then he would be perfect for that patron's plan. It was time to see if that grace he displayed walking translated to the dance floor.

*break*

Even with the mix the DJ was spinning, Gilbert immediately recognized "I Like That." Pleased with his luck, Gilbert danced his way through the mass of humanity to get to one of the platforms through the intro of the song. By the time the singing began, he was up on the platform closest to the entrance to the VIP section. He looked up briefly to see his tiny reflection on the mirror and smirked. Then, Gilbert closed his eyes and _moved._

Mathew could only stare as the nation that he had been housing transformed from the somewhat self-contained man to the embodiment of the music. He knew every change in tempo, every down and up-beat, every perfect moment to twist his body in ways that showed agility, flexibility and remarkable body control. Gilbert had surrendered himself to the song. And it was sexy as hell.

Apparently, Mathew was not the only one who thought so. Within the short five minutes that the song played, Gilbert had gained a small group of fans who stood on the ground below his platform, cheering him on and mimicking his movements.

The song ended too soon and Gilbert ceased dancing. Mathew drew in a shaky breath, a little thrown by the performance. He saw Gilbert hop off the platform and, instead of watching him wade through the humans around him, Mathew turned to their table and drained the rest of his whiskey. He needed time to compose himself before Gilbert made it up the stairs again. He needed time to convince himself that that burning in his stomach was from the whiskey and not from watching the man he called his friend.

_Now is the time_, the silent patron thought, hurrying down the stairs from the VIP area, _to make my entrance._

*break*

Gilbert was a little breathless. He had put on a bit of a show for Mathew, he would admit. But he must have looked pretty awesome if all those girls he had to wade through had anything to say about it. Gilbert was at the entrance of the VIP lounge, ready to start walking up the stairs when he was abruptly pulled into the stairwell and slammed against the wall by a surprisingly strong grip. The door to the rest of the club closed and Gilbert, now thoroughly aware of his predicament moved to fight back. "What the-" A voice stopped his movements. A female voice.

"How does a man who walks like he owns the world and dances like sex get trapped in the friend zone?"

Gilbert looked at the woman who had caught him off guard. With wavy black hair to her waist, deep blue eyes, lips that looked naturally red and pale skin, she had a Snow White vibe going for her. But instead of innocence, this woman radiated sin in a blue and black corset, tight black pants and thigh-high leather boots. The look in her eyes screamed determination and her words finally registered with Gilbert. "Look, lady, I have no idea what you're-"

"That man you have been with all night, the one with the beautiful eyes and wayward curl? You want him. Bad."

"No, I don't. We're just-"

"-Friends, right? Then why were you ready to jump that American for talking to him? Why did you tell him to watch you dance before moving like that? Why do you call him such an obvious pet name when he only calls you Gil? Why did you flinch when he introduced you as a friend?" She took in his expression and laughed. "Oh, chill out, will you? I've just been watching you two all night. It's quite transparent to anyone bothering to look how you feel about him."

Gilbert swallowed, knowing that this woman had an aim to this conversation. For some reason, he wanted to know what it was. "Why were you watching us? Why does any of that matter?"

"You know why it matters. I started watching you two when you entered the VIP area. You're a bit eye catching, you know? But once I figured out that you were in the same situation as me, I thought we might be able to help each other. Being in the friend zone is a bitch, don't you agree?"

Gilbert stared at this woman, knowing that he should walk away and return to his friend, just his friend, no matter how much that label was beginning to grate his nerves. He knew he should forget the too honest words of this woman and remember his rules. But all he said after a moment was, "What did you have in mind?"

*break*

A new song began, signaling to Mathew that it had been a few minutes since Gilbert had stopped dancing. _Well, he did say that he might be dancing more than one song…_ Mathew thought, standing up to survey the dance floor for the recognizable silver mop. It didn't take long to find him.

Standing on the platform in the center of the dance floor featured Gilbert dancing with a very attractive woman. But that didn't quite cover it. It was like watching porn, but everyone had their clothes on. The words of the song, so clear in the VIP area, registered in Mathew's head as he watched the couple dance.

_Two single Hearts on fire, Currently on the wire_

_As inhibitions fade, A focused moment made_

_Bruises and bitemarks say, Takes one to bring the pain_

_Passion lies in screams of estacitic dreams_

_You're in a place for fear, lips are for biting here_

_Let's make the moment worth the while, Let's kill the night and go down in style_

_Feel the magic rise, we're plotting our demise_

_Of perspiration and alcohol as I introduce the bedroom brawl_

_You bring the ropes and chains, I bring the pills and pain_

_I can show you pain and make you say my name_

_You won't believe my lies, that I'm not like other guys_

_That sparkle in my eyes is part of my disguise…_

Mathew didn't know how he felt as he watched the pair dance in almost matching clothes and pale skin that looked ethereal in the strobe lights. The way that they moved to the song, God, it could have been a performance arraigned by the club. Every action and reaction of the duo was meant to display a message of ecstasy and controlled violence. Mathew couldn't know what he felt, but he could discern an utter desire to be in that woman's shoes, no matter how uncomfortable they looked.

"-the fuck is she doing!?" Mathew looked at the man who had come to stand next to him at the glass. His eyes were glued to one spot in the center of floor below them and they were furious. Mathew just couldn't help himself.

"Is she yours?"

The man, who was actually an inch shorter than Mathew with chocolate eyes, a strong jaw line and wide shoulders, almost told the other to fuck off before he recognized him as the man who came in with the albino; the same albino who was practically having sex in the middle of a crowd with his best friend's sister. "Isn't he _yours_?"

The song was ending and the pair in the VIP section looked down at their counterparts. Gilbert, in all his glory, finished with an almost gentlemanly kiss on the woman's hand, staring into her eyes the entire time. It was a heart stopping moment full of chemistry and heat. It looked to all the world like these two were going to find a nice dark corner to relieve themselves of some tension, and the two men left behind the glass shared a moment of mutual understanding that this could not be allowed to happen. Little did they know that the show was all for them.

*break*

"Whew! Good thing you're gay and we're both in love with someone else 'cause otherwise I might just be walking funny tomorrow. That was so _hot_!"

"Well, thank you. You weren't too bad yourself. And the song choice was awesome."

"The perks of having a brother as the DJ…"

"Kesesese, well I- wait. I'm not in love with Bir- I mean Mathew."

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "Right, and I'm the fucking Easter Bunny." Gilbert opened his mouth to protest but the woman cut him off with a sharp movement of a hand. "Enough of this. We have two probably confused and jealous men to deal with. It was nice plotting with you." She held out a hand.

Gilbert gladly took it. "You, too. I'm Gilbert, by the way."

She gave a laugh that was infectious enough to bring a genuine smile to Gilbert's face at the sound. "Right, we skipped that part, didn't we? I'm Alex. It's nice to meet you, Gilbert. Now let's go deal with our men, shall we?"

*break*

Gilbert was expecting the punch so he had time to duck out of the way and move out of range of the man he assumed that Alex was after. He looked into the other's eyes and was pleased to see rage, presumably of the jealous kind. _Mission accomplished._

"Richard?" Alex asked in a much softer, more innocent voice than Gilbert had yet heard from the woman. He barely kept his jaw hinged at the sight of confused innocent eyes after the display they had just put on together. _Women are dangerous creatures_, he thought to himself in awe. "What are you doing to Gilgil?" _Gilgil? This woman is nuts. She has to be desperate for this man._

"Gilgil?" Both Mathew and this Richard fellow said at the same time with the same amount of disbelief.

Richard had clearly had enough fun for the evening. After shooting one a death glare at Gilbert (who has kept up a poker face through this interaction), Richard simply picked Alex and threw her over his shoulder as he stopped at their table to grab her purse and then left the VIP area. Alex verbally protested her predicament but gave a thumbs up and a smile to Gilbert before she disappeared from view.

"Never mess with a woman with a plan, Birdie. They are some dangerous, crazy ass creatures. She makes me glad I'm into guys."

"What?"

Gilbert walked over nonchalantly to their table and finished off his beer, signaling Erica for another one across the room. Mathew followed, utterly confused. First he thought that he would have to restrain Gilbert from having sex with the woman in public and now he's being told that Gilbert didn't even _like_ women? "Can you please explain to me what just happened, Gil?"

"Sure. I was coming up from dancing that first time when Alex-that's her name- asked me to help her make the man she loves jealous so that he could finally see her as something other than a friend/sister figure. One of her brothers is the DJ so I agreed to dance with her for one song to help her out. I made sure to make it as heated as possible. It looks like her plan worked."

"…oh."

"Oh? That's all I get for awesomely helping a damsel in distress? Oh?"

Mathew looked askance at Gilbert for a moment. "Well what were you expecting for dancing like a wet-dream in public just to make someone jealous? A pat on the head, maybe?"

"So you liked my dancing, hmmm?"

Mathew went red. _You have no _idea _how much I liked your dancing_, Mathew thought. What he said was, "Sure, you're pretty smooth on the dance floor. It's a shame you can't be that smooth in the kitchen."

Gilbert laughed. "Well, excuse me, Mr. Domestic. It only makes sense that I'm more awesome at some things than others. If I was awesome at everything the world would not be big enough to contain my awesomeness."

Mathew face-palmed. "You're a mess."

Gilbert chugged his newly arrived beer then said, "Let's see what you learned from my show, ja?" Gilbert extracted his wallet and threw enough bills on the table to cover everything and leave a nice tip. Gilbert then stood and looked at Mathew expectantly. Mathew tossed back he recently refilled whiskey and sighed. He figured that he was going to be embarrassed so a little liquid courage was welcome. As he walked out of the VIP lounge with Gilbert, he wished that alcohol had more effect on nations so he could blame what he knew would be a sorry excuse for dancing on decreased motor skills. Oh, well.

*break*

Gilbert recognized the song playing the minute the saxophone line began. He smiled slightly to himself then looked at Mathew, forced to yell again to be heard over the volume. "This song is a little up tempo so just follow the beat, not the melody, okay!?"

Mathew, with his eyes back into slits as he tried to navigate in the strobe lit area, nodded. They were on the edge of the dance floor, giving Mathew a quick escape if he needed one. Gilbert began to dance like he always does, throwing caution into the wind as he moves to the beat, entranced by the music. Mathew tired to imitate Gilbert but he was failing. He ended up doing an awkward little shuffle in time with the music, but that was the best he had to offer at this point. Exhaustion hit him on the way down the stairs, reminding him of his lack of quality sleep the night before and the emotional trials of his morning. _God,_ he thought. _What time is it anyway?_

Gilbert couldn't help but notice that Mathew was fading fast. Concerned, he asked, "Are you okay!? Do you want to go!?"

Mathew snapped back to himself. It was Gilbert's turn to show him how he had fun. He wasn't going to deny the man at least one dance. Summoning on reserves of energy, Mathew reached for Gilbert's hand and started his shuffling motions again with new vigor. Realizing that he would never be heard over the music, Mathew mouthed the words, _Help me dance._

Gilbert understood and took charge of the situation. He looped Mathew's arms around his neck and placed his hands on Mathew's slim hips. In time with the music, Gilbert moved them together. It was less perfect, less smooth than when Gilbert danced by himself, but he loved it more than any dance he had experienced. With a small smile on his lips, Gilbert danced with the one he might possibly love and it was amazing.

Mathew was startled when Gilbert placed his hands on his hips to move them from side to side in time with the beat but soon began to relax as Gilbert led their dance. He found himself looking at Gilbert's face instead of their feet as the song progressed.

_Hey, sexy boy, set me free_

_Don't be so shy, play with me_

_My dirty boy, can't you see_

_That you belong next to me…_

Mathew was staring at Gilbert's mouth. He had been for a while. Gilbert had noticed and let the tension build between them. Thanks to the interference of the interesting human woman, Gilbert could no longer neither deny that his attraction to Mathew was more than normal in a friendship nor act like the attraction was purely physical. He was throwing his rules out the window, but he wanted Mathew to make the first move. While he was now aware of his stance, he was still unclear on Mathew's. And while the physical chemistry between them was explosive, Gilbert didn't just want this to just be about lust. He didn't know if it was love, but he wanted to find out. He wanted to do this right. Of course, doing thing right started with telling Mathew about why he came to Canada in the first place. Gilbert frowned at the thought.

Mathew mentally started and physically stumbled at the sight of Gilbert's frown. Gilbert caught him and ended up pulling him closer into his body in order to steady the Canadian. Mathew's eyes widened and Gilbert stepped away with a sigh. "You're tired! Let's go home, okay!?"

Mathew nodded. Sooner than he expected, he was standing in the cool air of the early morning. Refreshed by the fresh air, Mathew drove them back to his house in silence. He could tell that something had changed between them, he was just unsure about what was different.

It wasn't until Mathew pulled up into his driveway that he said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, Gil. Thanks for taking me out."

Gilbert smiled slightly. "Anytime, Birdie. It was awesome."

Silence fell again and it was full of words yet unsaid and unresolved tensions. Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck, his actions for the next day fixed in his mind. After walking into the house, Gilbert knew he had to get away from Mathew if only to keep from jumping him to relieve the tension between them. "Goodnight, Birdie. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Gil. Sleep well."

The two separated, each aware of their own feelings and insecurities. Mathew went to sleep hoping that these complicated feelings would be gone by morning and Gilbert hoped that rest would give him the surety he needed to do what he planned. Neither would know until the sun rose in the morning the failure of sleep to grant these wishes. But, for now, they slept.

A/N: I. Am. Exhausted. This is more than the 10 pages I estimated yesterday. Why can't I just shut up!? I'll edit this later...

BTW: It's still Tuesday somewhere in America… just not my time zone. Sorry guys. I really tried but I just couldn't do it. *cries in a corner*

Songs used in this chapter (which I don't own!): "I Like That" by Richard Vission and Static Revenger (Staring Luciana), "Bruises and Bitemarks" by Good With Granades and "Mr. Saxobeat" by Alexandra Stan

Song for this chapter (which I also don't own!): "Hot Mess" by Cobra Starship

Goodnight.

darkhuntress13


	12. Ch 11: The Talk

I don't own Hetalia.

Warning of profanity. Though if you didn't know that by now, nothing I say will help you.

Ch 11: The Talk

Gilbert woke up with a start, suppressing the groan that gathered in the back of his throat. He had that dream again, the one where he was killed by his past self while the man who broke his heart fucked the man who might be fixing it. He was so _sick_ of dying in his dreams and he never wanted to see Mathew under another again. He prayed that this dream would not continue to reoccur, but he doubted the effectiveness of the action. God had had better things to do for the past 60 years or so than answering Gilbert's prayers; didn't stop him from trying though.

Gilbert knew he was alone in this. It was up to his subconscious whether the dream came back or not and Gilbert couldn't very well control that. What Gilbert could help was his determination to make Mathew his and his alone. All he needed was a plan… and to find out if Mathew liked men. Sure, they had chemistry, but Mathew's minimal reaction to Gilbert's pronouncement of his sexuality last night was not encouraging. In this, Gilbert wanted actual confirmation. If Mathew was comfortable with his attraction to men, then it would Gilbert would pursue him as planned. If Mathew was in denial (and, after watching Feliciano pursue his so-far-in-the closet-he-doesn't-even-know-he's-in-there brother, Gilbert knew just how far denial could go), it would change the seduction. If Mathew was like Portugal and completely straight… Gilbert was finished before he started. But considering their chemistry, Mathew surely liked men a _little_, right?

Getting up from bed, Gilbert physically winced at his thoughts. _First off, _he reminded himself on the way to the bathroom for his shower, _worrying about it isn't going to solve anything. Just ask him, damn it. Second, the first step no matter Mathew's status is the same. Just focus on getting past that, you dummkopf._

Gilbert, lost in his thoughts, was not paying attention to his surroundings. He didn't hear the little sounds coming from the bathroom or the light coming from under said door. As a result, when he reached for doorknob only to have the door yanked open from the other side, Gilbert had to suppress a gasp in surprise. But once he noticed Mathew, fresh from the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist keeping him decent, Gilbert had to suppress a lot more than a gasp. While Mathew was less broad in the shoulders than Gilbert, he was no less in shape. He was built like a man who actually did something other than weightlifting to earn the muscles, so Mathew didn't have the idealized six pack or bulkiness. But the imperfect, very masculine beauty that he did possess was enough to stop all of Gilbert's brain activity as his blood fled south with intentions that no longer involved thinking.

_Think of _anything_ else, _he thought frantically._ The loss of my empire. West dressed as a ballerina. Spending the day with Ivan. Spending the evening with Belarus after spending the day with Ivan. _Thus, with his libido under control, Gilbert was able to sputter, "B-Birdie? I'm sorry! I didn't-"

Mathew took was just as startled by the appearance of Gilbert, but was able to remain composed as he said, "It's no problem, Gil. Good morning."

Gilbert blushed a little and looked at the ground a little. "Morning."

There was a brief pause until Mathew said, "Did you need anything?"

_Yes. You. Underneath me. Now._ "Uh, no, I was just going to take a shower…"

"Well, if that's the case, can I go back to my room now…?"

It hit Gilbert in that moment that he had been effectively blocking the exit for Mathew. Blush renewed, Gilbert jumped out of Mathew's way. "Es tut mir lied!"

Mathew looked at Gilbert, confused. "What does that mean?"

"Sorry…"

Mathew laughed a little to himself. "It's alright, Gil. Do you want pancakes for breakfast again or do you want to go out?"

Gilbert realized that Mathew was trying to be a good host here but he was half way to telling him to just go to his room and get dressed already! The man only had so much self control… "You pick."

"Are you sure?"

"Ja."

Mathew frowned at Gilbert, completely unaware of Gilbert's struggles. He was a little concerned about Gilbert's red face and the fact that he was avoiding Mathew's gaze. Mathew had yet to see the albino with much color in his face or turn down pancakes, so he thought that alarm was called for. "Are you alright? You aren't sick are-" Mathew reached up to touch Gilbert's face, only to have his guest jerk away from him. Mathew was now scowling. "Gilbert, I thought we talked about this."

_That was for your safety, damn it!_ He _knew_ what he would have done if Mathew had succeeded in touching him, so Gilbert decided that was his good deed for the day. Gilbert took a deep breath and focused on looking into Mathew's eyes. Only his eyes. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I had another unawesome dream last night. I actually wanted to talk to you about them today…"

Mathew looked torn between concern and subdued excitement, then settled on concern. "Really?"

"…After I used the bathroom and got dressed."

Mathew remembered his state of undress in that moment. He went red then said while turning towards his room, "Right! I'll leave you to that, eh?"

Gilbert didn't know whether he should kick or congratulate himself for not watching Mathew walk away.

*break*

Mathew was already cooking the pancakes when Gilbert emerged from his room, dressed and more than a little apprehensive. He would admit to taking longer than needed to get dressed, actually looking at himself in the mirror before leaving the room. _Will he want to start talking immediately, over breakfast? What is he going to say? Gott, I hate that this is necessary._

Mathew heard the quiet slapping of Gilbert's feet as he entered the kitchen and turned briefly to give him welcoming smile before focusing on the pancakes. "Breakfast will be ready in about 5 minutes, okay? Can you pour me a glass of apple juice and get something for yourself while you're at it?"

Gilbert blinked in hesitation, and then moved to the refrigerator. He was expecting something else, so used to dealing with his brother's straightforward nature and the bluntness of his friends. Removing the bottle of juice that Mathew requested, Gilbert closed the door, remembering with a slight smile Mathew's aversion to open refrigerator doors. _I suppose that Birdie is just a bit…different. _

Still, Gilbert was waiting for an interrogation, a question, hell, an acknowledgement that Gilbert had promised to talk to Mathew at all. Mathew just kept making pancakes in his customary loose jeans and sweatshirt, humming quietly to himself a tune that Gilbert didn't recognize. After about a minute, Gilbert began to relax a bit, pouring the apple juice and getting water from the tap for himself. Replacing the apple juice, Gilbert asked, "Do you need me to do anything else?"

"Um, could you set the table, please?"

"Sure, Birdie." Mathew smiled slightly to himself at the nickname. A tension that he didn't know existed relaxed in him at the sound of it. It reassured him that Gilbert was still okay with him, that there was (hopefully) going to be no awkwardness after this morning or last night. Who would have thought that one name would come to mean so much to him in the span of two days?

"Do you know where everything is?"

"Ja. I've been here long enough to know where everything is, Birdie."

Mathew chuckled then made a gesture of surrender. "I'm just asking, Gil."

Breakfast proceeded as usual; with Mathew gaining amusement and pleasure from seeing Gilbert enjoy his cooking and the pair chatting about nothing in particular. It wasn't until they began to clean up (okay, Mathew was cleaning while Gilbert was mostly in the way) the kitchen that Gilbert finally felt comfortable enough to say. "Thank you, Mathew."

Mathew looked up, startled by the seriousness of Gilbert's tone and the use of his full first name. With wide eyes, Mathew said, "For what, Gil?"

"For giving me the time I needed before telling you about what's been bothering me."

_Well, that was an abrupt change_, Mathew thought before dropping the pan he was washing in the sink and giving Gilbert his full attention. "It was no problem. I don't want to make you uncomfortable and push you into something you're not ready for. If you wanted, we could not talk at all. I-" Mathew paused. "I want you to trust me, Gil. I want you to trust me enough to talk about your problems with me without being forced to just because you said you would. You're my friend and I'm here for you when you need me."

Gilbert just looked at Mathew for a minute, considering the now blushing Canadian. That might have been the most Mathew had said at once to him, but he wasn't sure. It was clear that this was something important to Mathew, which gave Gilbert the pleasure of telling Mathew the truth. "I trust you."

Mathew, who had looked at the ground in shyness for most of his speech, looked up and locked eyes with Gilbert in that moment. Something passed between them that was unspoken and profound. It was a connection of mutual trust and reassurances. Mathew and Gilbert just stared at each other for several long moments before returning to their previous tasks. They both knew that something had changed and couldn't help silently rejoicing.

*break*

Once the kitchen was clean and Mathew fed Maple Leaf, Gilbert led him into the living room. Sitting on the sectional couch, Gilbert waited until Mathew was seated on the section adjacent to his own before finally breaking the silence between them. Taking a deep breath, Gilbert said, "Do you know why I came here, Birdie?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Mathew answered it anyway. "No, I don't."

"I came here to run away."

Mathew waited for something else to follow that sentence, but the silenced stretched as Gilbert stared at the wall without really seeing it. "Gil, I told you; we don't have to talk about this now if you aren't ready."

Gilbert shook his head. "No, Birdie. I need to tell you this. You deserve to know."

Mathew wanted to ask why he deserved to know but kept quiet. Gilbert continued, "Last week, I tried to tell the man I thought I loved for centuries what I felt. I was… unawesomely rejected. Actually, it was cruel in the way he did it. I never actually got to say anything before everything I thought I wanted was thrown in my face."

Mathew swallowed as Gilbert paused. He didn't know what to say. What does one say in situations like this? He didn't know what he felt. It was Gilbert's pain, but then why did Mathew's heart hurt? "I'm sorry, Gil." Then curiosity overcame Mathew and he couldn't control himself for a moment. "What did he say, if you don't mind telling me?"

Gilbert smiled bitterly. "No, I don't mind. He said that… I disgusted him, was below his standards and should have disappeared with my nation in 1947. He also… called me some choice names."

"Like what, may I ask?" The request was calm and polite, different from the concern filled tone from before. Gilbert frowned but didn't look up.

"He called me a… f-freak of nature."

"Who called you that?" Gilbert looked at Mathew, startled by the cold animosity in his voice. There was a spark of confrontation to Mathew's eyes, turning them that unique purple that Gilbert was coming to love and fear. While it thrilled Gilbert that Mathew had gotten angry on his behalf, the coldness of Mathew's anger was disconcerting. Gilbert hadn't known Mathew to be capable of it.

"Birdie?"

Mathew calmed down, remembering that Gilbert needed his comforting. A mircroscopic portion of his brain offered the idea that this unknown man's head on a plate would be comforting, but Mathew ignored it… for now. In his normal, but concerned tone, Mathew replied, "I'm sorry, Gil. I don't know what came over me but-" Mathew wanted to say more, to be more comforting, but he didn't know how. At a loss, he said, "Please continue."

Gilbert reassured himself that Mathew was indeed alright and back to his normal self he said, "After that, I left his house and went home. For some reason, he called my brother, probably about the mess I left at his house or something, and told him about what happened. By the time I got home that night, my brother was going to force me to talk. He even took away my beer stash in an attempt to get me out of my room. I wasn't ready to talk about what happened or how I felt then, so I ran." Gilbert winced at his behavior. "Kind of the coward's thing to do now that I think about it."

"You had every right not to want to talk about your feelings before you were ready, Gil. So your method of avoidance was a little… extreme. There's nothing wrong with that. But, if I may ask, why did you come here? I know you have other friends who would have been able to help you hide, if you asked."

"I, um, well."

"What?"

"Gilbird actually chose to come here."

"…Excuse me?"

"I didn't want to go to any of my other friends because they are either happily in a relationship or would have made me talk. And they would likely hand me back to my brother. He's a little intimidating when provoked. I asked Gilbird where he wanted to go and Gilbird perched on this globe I have in my room back home and pecked Canada. That was how I chose my destination."

"So you didn't think 'where can I go to disappear' and think of me, the nation who is literally said to disappear?"

Gilbert opened his mouth to say no then hesitated. "Is this a trick question?"

Mathew sighed and said, "No, it isn't, but it doesn't really matter."

Gilbert felt like somewhere this conversation had gone wrong and scrambled to fix it. "But I'm really happy Gilbird chose the awesome Canada to visit. I mean, if he hadn't, I wouldn't have met you and that really would have been unawesome because you're my friend now and-" Rubbing the back of his neck, Gilbert cut himself off before he could say more that really didn't need to be said.

"Don't worry about it, Gil." Pause. "And I'm glad you came here, too." Suddenly inspired, Mathew stood up and moved towards Gilbert.

"Birdie, what-" Gilbert stopped talking as Mathew sat down next to him and hugged him. When Gilbert didn't move, Mathew said,

"I don't have a lot of experience in giving comfort, but I think this is what I'm supposed to do, right?"

Reacting a little late, Gilbert laid his head on Mathew's shoulder and nodded as he hugged him back. Mathew continued. "Let me say that this man is an absolute hoser and you're too good for him, not the other way around. You are not a freak of nature. You are Gilbert Beilschmidt, representative and personification of the former Teutonic Order, Kingdom of Prussia, and German Democratic Republic and that is all you will ever need to be to stay awesome, alright?" No answer. "Gilbert, that was not a rhetorical question. Do you understand me?"

Gilbert fought the burning at the back of his eyes and hugged Mathew tighter as he nodded. No one had called him awesome and meant it since the First World War. And then, he had an empire, power. Now he was… nothing, no one without any purpose. When fellow nations called him awesome now, it was in mockery. Mathew was the first person who said it since the days when he was important and didn't make him feel like a waste of space. He appreciated Mathew more than he thought possible in that moment, just from the use of that one little adjective.

Mathew noticed that Gilbert was shaking. Not crying, just shaking. Mathew didn't know what to do yet again. He wanted to look at the man's face, but it was buried in his shoulder. At a loss, Mathew just sat there giving what comfort he could until Gilbert regained control of himself. "Thank you, Birdie."

"It's no problem, Gil. I'm here for you. I'm happy that you feel comfortable enough with me to share this and I will happily wipe that bastard off the map for you if you wanted…" When Gilbert didn't enthusiastically agree to this Mathew sighed internally and continued. "I'm assuming that this has affected your dreams?"

"…You could say that." Long pause as Mathew looked at Gilbert expectantly while Gilbert tried to figure out a way to talk about them without going into details. "First, before I tell you about them, I want your promise that you will not kill, maim or torture the man, nor ask/pay someone else to do it before I tell you his name. Otherwise the dream won't make sense."

The small, psycho part of Mathew's brain (which was significantly smaller than Antonio's, mind you) was disappointed at how comprehensive the stipulation was but the rest of the nation was a little offended. "Gil, I promise not to do any of those things. I'm actually really shocked that you felt you had to get my word before telling me."

"I'm sorry, Birdie. I didn't mean to offend you, but the look in your eyes that I saw earlier reminded me of Antonio on a bad day 500 years ago. I thought it wise to think ahead."

"Alright..." A thought occurred to Mathew. "Gil, did you happen to ask your friends not to harm this guy on your journey out of Europe?"

Gilbert paled, which was interesting to see. "No, I didn't."

"Well, your brother has an even head on his shoulders and is quite peaceful nowadays, so I doubt he would do anything. It's Francis, Antonio and Alistair I would worry about… unless this asshole is one of them…"

"No," Gilbert said distractedly. "It's Roderich."

One could have heard a pin drop in the room. Mathew stared at Gilbert in shock for a moment. _Roderich?_ Mathew thought. _Austria? _That's_ the kind of guy Gilbert likes, stuck-up aristocrats who rather play music than actually be around others or go to a hockey game or- What am I thinking? Of course Gilbert would want Roderich. He actually has a presence and is refined and dignified. Of course that's what Gilbert wants. Why does that bother me so much?_

"Birdie?" Gilbert waved his hand in front of Mathew's unfocused eyes, making the other man aware once more.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Gil. What were you saying?"

"I didn't say anything but you began to look a bit distressed."

Mathew waved his hand in an oddly feminine gesture. "Never mind about me. So, Roderich, eh?" _Why him?_ "Now I know for a fact just how much _you_ are out of _his_ league. So, what happened in your dream?"

Gilbert didn't trust Mathew's dismissal of something that clearly was bothering him, but answered anyway. "In one dream, it's like a reversal of history. It takes place during the War of Austrian Succession and, at the end of a battle I won, Specs overpowers and kills me after telling me how pathetic I am. The other one… I don't want to talk about."

"Specs," Mathew said, testing the nickname on his tongue. It tasted bitter.

"It's a name I gave him a long time ago." When Mathew made a small noise with his throat, Gilbert continued. "The reason I was acting so weird after these dreams is that it's a little jarring to be touched after a dream where the last touch you received is the one that killed you."

"… I don't know what I can say to make you feel better and help keep these dreams from reoccurring but that you are not pathetic and Roderich does not deserve you." After a moment, Mathew said, "Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

Gilbert thought about it and said, "Not really."

Mathew hesitated before saying this, knowing that it could very well send Gilbert away faster than necessary, but it needed to be done. "Gil, I think you need to call Ludwig, just to let him know you're not lying in a ditch somewhere, ok?"

Gilbert winced. "Birdie, I'm really not ready to talk about my feelings with mein bruder yet."

Mathew noticed that Gilbert hadn't really talked about his feelings with him, either. It was kind of just a cursory report of what happened, but Mathew would take anything Gilbert was willing to give. "Gil, I'm not asking you to tell him anything other than the fact that you are okay. You can even block your number to disguise the country code if you like."

"…That sounds reasonable. Thanks, Birdie. For everything."

They both stood up as Mathew went in search of the home phone and Gilbert headed to the kitchen for a cup of water. Before they left ways, something occurred to Mathew. "Gil, can I ask you one question?"

Gilbert was a little wary but said, "Sure."

"When we first started talking, you said that you _thought_ you loved him for centuries and that he blew everything you _thought_ you wanted to pieces. Does that mean you don't, didn't actually love or want him?"

Gilbert stared at Mathew. He had been unaware of those little slip ups before in the conversation. Now he didn't know exactly how to answer Mathew's question. "I don't know, Birdie. After wanting Specs for so long, all I felt when I looked at him was a kind of chronic loss. I don't know if that's love or not. I thought it was but now I'm not sure."

Mathew wanted to ask what made him reconsider but stuck to his one question. Nodding, Mathew said, "I may not know much from experience, but I don't think love is supposed to primarily be loss. It's supposed to be wonderful and difficult, but not only loss. I'll go get the phone for you."

Gilbert stared at the space where Mathew stood for a few moments then when to the kitchen. Their conversation had not been what Gilbert had wanted, but at least Mathew knew why he was here. With that out of the way, Gilbert had other things to worry about, like what he was going to say to his brother and how he would ask Mathew if he liked men, too. But in the back of his mind, the thought that he never really loved Roderich was hidden away for later consideration. For now, he had other things to do.

A/N: Hello, all. I'm sorry about this one, guys. I hate this chapter because it's so fillerish (yes, that's a word! Not really though...). The next one will be better. We get to check in with Europe again and Gil makes his plan!

Song: This chapter is so unawesome, it doesn't deserve one. But because I said I would for every chapter… "Change" by Deftones

I'm sorry! *cries*

darkhuntress13

Edit 4/4/13: Okay, maybe I was a little harsh on myself... but thanks for the support guys.


	13. Ch 12: European Intermission

I don't own Hetalia…

Ch. 12: European Intermission

Apprehension coursed through Ludwig automatically at the sound of his ringing phone. While he doubted that there were any pressing problems or emergencies (Feliciano was downstairs and couldn't very well get in much trouble from there and Ludwig didn't feel any of the characteristic uneasiness that was associated with any revolts around his country), he couldn't help but be wary of the device. He had come to have a love-hate relationship with all telephones during the War. While the ringing meant that he would be there for North Italy when he was needed, it also was almost always the bearer of bad news.

So Ludwig stared at his cell phone for a moment before reaching for it with a long suffering sigh. He looked longingly at the paperwork in front of him on his desk. Unlike the people who communicated with phones, paperwork never surprised him. "Hallo?"

"Hallo, West."

Ludwig started to attention in his office chair, causing the comfortable leather to sigh from the movement. "Bruder?"

"Ja, of course it's awesome me. Who else calls you 'West'?" Of course, all of this was said in German, giving Ludwig no clue as to where Gilbert might be. He looked at the screen of his phone, only to see that the number was blocked.

There were many things that Ludwig wanted to ask. _Where are you? Are you okay? When will you be back home?_ He didn't realize until that moment just how much he missed his obnoxious older brother and just how much his absence worried him. The last time Prussia went any length of time without communicating in some way with Germany when he was away from home was during the Cold War. Since the fall of the Wall, Gilbert made a point of communicating with Ludwig every day, even when he was so drunk he mixed up his languages in unintelligible sentences (an alarmingly frequent occurrence in the '90s). Even though Gilbert's texts and calls were often bothersome to Ludwig in the moment, they also reassured him that his brother was still there. After the dissolution of Prussia while Gilbert was living in Ivan's house, Ludwig had come to appreciate his brother's presence more than ever. Perhaps their separation had given them both Germany and Prussia a brother complex that was more… discrete than the Italian one.

"West?"

"Ja, I'm here." It was all Ludwig could say. The questions that he wanted to ask were stuck in his throat so all he was left with was an inconsequential statement.

"Haha. Well, I just had the awesome urge to tell you that I'm still alive and kicking."

"Danke."

There was a silence as the brothers thought of what to say to each other. Gilbert tried to figure out how to phrase his next question without giving away too much information as to his emotional state or who prompted him to call his brother. Ludwig tried to work past his general difficulty with emotional displays (something he had only gradually gotten over with Feliciano) enough to tell his brother that he was worried about him. Gilbert broke the silence first.

"West, did you tell anyone else about my… vacation? Because if you did, you might want to ask them not to kill Specs for me."

"First of all, bruder, you don't work in the first place, so how is this possibly a vacation? I would call it more of an escape from dealing with your emotional problems. Ja, I know you're not with Spain. Second, what did Roderich say or do to make someone want to kill him?"

A brief pause during which Gilbert thought, _Really, West? You're going to talk to _me_ about avoiding emotional problems? I learned it from you, dear brother._ But there were more pressing issues in Gilbert's head than pointing out his brother's hypocrisy. Gilbert knew that his brother loved him deep down, so the fact that he saw nothing wrong with what happened between him and Roderich told him something. If it was enough to upset (usually) gentle Mathew, then surely his scary-ass brother would be just as pissed on Gilbert's behalf. Unless… "So you don't know?"

A hesitation. "Whatever I don't know, it's because you didn't tell me, bruder."

"If maybe you had respected my decision to not want to talk in the first place by, you know, not trying to trap me by _taking away my beer_, I would have talked to you about this by now, but you just had to unawesomelly push the issue."

"So you left like a thief in the night because I took away your _beer_!?" Ludwig was shouting at this point, knowing that this was not the appropriate emotional response but anger was one of the only emotions he could easily express. If your only tool is a hammer…

"West, that is not the point and you know it! If you had just-" Prussia cut himself off and Germany heard a faint whisper in the background. Germany couldn't place the soft sound but it had managed to calm down his brother. With a resigned voice, Prussia continued. "I didn't call to fight, West. I really just wanted to let you know that I'm alright and to ask you to tell anyone who knows about what happened to not kill Specs. If you've talked to Tony, then he should be the person that you tell first. That's all."

Ludwig hesitated, calmed by his brother's tone. With his anger abated, he was left with worry. "But are you, bruder?"

"Am I what?"

"Alright?"

"…I think so, West. I really do. I have to go. Say hi to Feli for me." Gilbert hung up.

Ludwig pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, unaware of the man watching him from the doorway.

"Are you okay, Luddy?"

An ice blue gaze met familiar, barely visible gold eyes in surprise. "Oh, Feliciano. I thought you were downstairs."

"I was but then I heard yelling and I wanted to check on you. Ve~ are you okay?"

"Ja, I'm fine. I'm just… worried about Gilbert. He says, hi, by the way."

Feliciano walked across the well organized office to reach Ludwig who scooted his chair back just in time to have an Italian plop in his lap. Italy then cuddled himself against his massive partner, giving the other the comfort of his closeness. "What did Gilbert have to say?"

Ludwig wrapped his arms around Feliciano. How could he not? He inhaled the slight garlic scent of Feliciano's hair and something eased inside him. "Just that he was alive and that he wanted me to call Spain about something. It sounded like he was with someone."

Feliciano frowned up at Ludwig with a confused expression, making his eyes shut all the way in contrast to the slits they were constantly in. "But if Gilbert wanted to talk to Big Brother Spain, why didn't he just call him?"

"I think he is avoiding him, too. Or, he's just lazy."

Feliciano wiggled a little and when Ludwig opened his arms again his partner stood up. "Ve~ if Gilbert is with someone then you shouldn't worry too much, Luddy. Gilbert's not alone like you thought he was."

"I suppose so but I would still like to know who…"

"Maybe Big Brother Spain will have an idea. Now come on, Luddy. Dinner's ready and we can't let the pasta get cold!"

*break*

It was eleven that night when the phone rang in Madrid. Antonio had been receiving calls since eight that morning and was all out of patience and good cheer.

"For the last fucking time, Sadiq, no matter what he-"

"Antonio?"

"…Ludwig?"

"…Is this a bad time?"

Antonio laughed nervously for a second. "No. Lo siento, I've just been receiving some disturbing calls from Turkey and it has me on edge. What's wrong?"

Ludwig sighed but answered. "I heard from mein bruder today. He-"

"What! Where is he? What is he doing? Is he okay? Is he with someone? Who is-"

"He wouldn't answer a lot of my questions," Ludwig continued, slightly annoyed by the Spaniard's enthusiasm and his frustration with being unable to answer most of the questions. "He said that he just wanted to let me know that he was alright."

"How considerate of him."

Ludwig didn't know if Antonio was being sarcastic or not, so he pushed on. "Gilbert also said something about asking you not to kill Roderich. I was wondering if maybe you could explain that to me…"

"…I forgot that you didn't know."

"That I didn't know what?!" Ludwig was sick of being out of this loop and wanted in. Now.

Antonio's dark side, frighteningly close to the surface after dealing with Turkey without resolving anything all day, whispered a wonderful idea through his head. Both of his natures agreed that Roderich got off too easily. Sure, maybe Gilbert didn't really love Roderich but that still didn't mean the Austrian to get off scot free. _Ooooh. Maybe he should be invited to the party, too,_ Antonio thought. "You know, I think its best that you ask Roderich what exactly was said in person. It might also be a good idea to take Scotland with you. I doubt that Gilbert told him the whole story. I would leave Feli at home, though."

"…I feel like this is a set up. What were you doing over Roderich's house?"

"Francis and I are looking for Gilbert, Ludwig. We're his friends and we will be there for him even when he doesn't want us there. But enough about that. I really think you should go to see Roderich with Alistair. My other line is beeping. Bye, Ludwig!"

Spain hung up and smiled evilly before turning to the staircase. Now that his darker side had come out to play, he might as well have a little fun.

*break*

Francis groaned at the sound of the phone ringing. Not bothering to open his eyes, France groped around the bedspread for the offending item. He was up late last night doing… the questionable things that France does at night. Unlike many of the European nations, he was not tied down by one partner. As long as he didn't hang around the couples too much, he could scoff at the idea of monogamy. It was only during the times like world meetings when he felt like something was missing. But that was neither here nor there.

Answering the phone without looking, Francis mumbled, "'ello?"

"Good morning, Francis!" It was Antonio and he sounded _way_ too happy for (Francis looked at his phone) nine in the morning. "Do you mind if we start looking for Gilbert again tomorrow? Ludwig called me last night and said-"

"Hold on a second, mon ami. First, answer me zis: what has you in such a wonderful mood. When I talked to you yesterday, you were quite out of sorts."

"Yeah, I was a little upset." Antonio chuckled a little. "Lovi drunk dialed Sadiq the night before last and apparently said a couple of things that convinced that asshole that he needed to save Lovi from an unhappy life with me. So I had to deal with his threats and taunting calls all day. By the time Ludwig called, I was in a bad way. But I'm all better now!"

Francis, now fully awake, was almost afraid to ask but curiosity and all… "And what did you do to make yourself feel better?"

"I just let Sadiq know that Lovi is _very _happy with me and showed Lovi just how _mine_ he is."

Francis was intrigued. "_Go on_. And how did you do that, mon ami?"

"Well, I tied Lovi to the bed and fucked him senseless until he was begging for me to come then called Sadiq right when he came shouting my name, of course."

"…of course."

"Ah, it's been a while since I let myself go like that. So now I'm making Lovi breakfast. He can't exactly walk, so I'm catering to him today, but I'll be ready to start looking for Gilbert again tomorrow."

_Well, _Francis thought, z_at is one way to preoccupy Antonio, Romano. Bravo! _"Right… you mentioned something about Ludwig calling."

"Yep, he talked to Gilbert and said that Gilbert asked him to tell me not to kill Roderich. I told Ludwig that he should take Alistair and go talk to Roderich himself."

Francis shot to an upright sitting position. "You did what?"

"I said that I-"

"Non, mon ami, I heard what you said but… I have to go. Take care of ton Italian and we can resume our search tomorrow. Au revoir."

Francis hung up the phone and checked his recent calls. Sure enough, he had missed two calls from Germany that came in around 11:30 the night before. At that time, Francis was… otherwise engaged. Hurriedly, Francis dialed Germany who he knew would be up and dressed by this time. It didn't take long for the Central European nation to answer,

"Hallo?"

"Bonjour, Ludwig. This is Francis."

"Gut morgen, Francis. I assume that you are returning my calls."

"Oui. Antonio mentioned zat you had talked to Gilbert…"

"Ah, yes, but he did not mention where he was or who he was with. He was clearly with someone, however. What I am more interested in at this moment is what exactly Roderich said to mein bruder that prompted him to break his silence to ask that no one kill the man."

"…While it is true zat Austria said some harsh zings-"

"What did he say, Francis?"

"-ze most important piece of information zat I gained from taking to Roderich was zat Gilbert did not really love him."

There was a moment of silence as Ludwig tried to wrap his head around this deduction. "Explain."

"Can't you just take my word for it? I am ze country of love so I just know zese zings!"

"Is that your polite way of saying that I wouldn't understand even if you told me?"

"If you want to be blunt, oui."

"Tell me anyway, France."

Francis sighed and said, "Gilbert never showed his true self to Roderich."

"…And."

"See! You do not understand."

Ludwig could see that this conversation could quickly raise his blood pressure so he moved on. "Tell me what Roderich told Gilbert. I was only told that Roderich did not return Gilbert's affections when offered, but not about the manner in which it was done. So either you tell me what happened or I will follow Antonio's advice."

Francis knew that the only three people that Ludwig truly cared for were Feliciano, Gilbert and Kiku. When he learned the truth… perhaps it would be better to hear it from him rather than for Roderich to be present when Ludwig found out. "Well, ze short version is zat Roderich, after trying to physically harm Gilbert, told him zat he was scum and zat Roderich wished Gilbert died after ze War."

"Danke for telling me, Francis. Have a good day."

"Good bye, Ludwig."

_The conversation ended civilly enough_, thought Francis. _Here's to hoping that he doesn't tell Alistair and that Roderich survives the week relatively unharmed._ Francis had done all that he could to help. With that good deed done for the day, he returned back to his beauty sleep.

*break*

Germany calmly got up from his desk and went into the master bedroom. North Italy blinked his eyes groggily opened and noticed Germany at the closet. "Luddy? What are you doing? You're already dressed…" He noticed the leather holster that Germany pulled out of the closet and opened his eyes fully in alarm. "Ve~ Luddy, why do you need your gun?"

"Don't worry about it, Feliciano. I'm not going to kill anyone."

Feliciano forced himself out of bed and rushed over to hug Ludwig from behind. "Please don't wear your gun. It scares me," (_And everybody else_, he thought), "when you do. What happened? Why do you want to hurt someone, Luddy?"

"Feliciano, what would you do if someone hurt Romano?"

Feliciano hugged Ludwig tighter in fear. "I don't know what I would do. Big Brother Spain won't let anyone hurt Romano and if they did, I doubt that there would be much left after he was done with them. But maybe I would take care of Romano and then maybe get revenge?"

"Feliciano, what would you do for Romano if there was no Spain?"

"What! Where's Big Brother-"

"No, what I mean is that what if Spain wasn't there to avenge Romano first? What would you do then?"

Feliciano let go of Ludwig then stepped back slowly to look at his lover with serious eyes. In this rare moment of insight, he said, "In a different time, I would have avenged him myself. But this is not a different time, Luddy. We can no longer seek revenge on others like we used to." Ludwig looked at Italy's oh so serious face and nodded. He turned to put away his gun when Italy asked, "Who hurt Gilbert?"

"Roderich."

"…You know, mi amor, there are ways of gaining revenge that do not involve your gun."

A/N: I just love dark Spain. Isn't he cute? ;p I might just have to write a dark Spain story one of these days because he is just so much fun to write! The smut was calling me but this is a PruCan story so I let sleeping demons lie. Oh, and just if you were wondering, Lovino was not actually drunk when he called Sadiq. He just knew that Antonio needed to release some pent-up dark feelings and accidentally-on purpose called Turkey.

Anyway, I edited the chapters before this one. Not much has changed, so you don't have to re-read them. I just made couple of things make more sense and fixed some grammar errors.

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. We are now at 50 reviews! I never thought I would get this much love. So THANKS!

Sorry this chapter is a bit short. I have a week's worth of research to do before 11 am tomorrow so actually have an excuse this time.

Song: I don't know. XD How about: "Monster" by Skillet or "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace?

Next Up: We return to North America with the answer that Gilbert has been dying to know. The next chapter will start with Canada calming Prussia down during his phone call. I will begin to switch back and forth between Europe and Canada more often now that the roots of both story lines have been laid.

See ya soon!

darkhuntress13


	14. Ch 13: Answers

I don't own Hetalia. I'm tired of saying it because it's so true!

Chapter 13: Answers

Mathew was not eavesdropping on Gilbert's phone call to his brother. Really, he wasn't. It wasn't like he could _understand_ the rapid bursts of German coming from the next room. He was just concerned that the phone call might upset Gilbert. As Gilbert's friend, Mathew should be there for him when he was needed, right? As Gilbert's voice rose to a shouting level about a minute into the call Mathew felt justified in his proximity.

Gilbert cut himself off at the sight of Mathew's hurried entrance into the kitchen. In the split second of quiet, Mathew said, "Gil, you don't want to fight with your brother. Remember why you called, okay?"

Gilbert just nodded at Mathew as he continued his conversation in a much calmer tone. Mathew didn't leave the room this time, instead waiting for Gilbert to end his conversation about 30 seconds later. "How did it go?"

Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "It could have gone better. West is more worried than I thought he would be. He doesn't exactly know how to handle being worried so he goes for angry instead."

Mathew smiled a little to himself. "Your brother loves you, Gil. Of course he would be worried if you just disappeared on him." _It's more than I could say about Alfred_, he thought to himself.

"I guess, Birdie." Setting the phone down on the top of the couch, Gilbert made a point to change the topic. Stretching out a tricep just for something to do, he said, "So, we've talked enough today. What are we actually going to _do_?"

Mathew's lips quirked into a lopsided smile at Gilbert's obvious attempt to change the subject. "Well, I have nothing planned for today. But maybe I could show you around town…?"

"That sounds like an awesome idea, Birdie. That way when my bike gets here I'll know where I'm going."

"…Right," Mathew said, biting his lip. He had almost forgotten that Gilbert would be able to get around without him soon enough. Familiar insecurities crept up on him but he gave them a forceful mental push away, focusing on the here and now. "Do you have any idea what you want to do or see?"

_Well now that you mention it, I would like to see you upstairs, in bed, and then do something about it, _Gilbert thought. He wisely kept that thought to himself. He had no idea why he was so horny but, then again, it had been a long time since… "Umm, why don't you show me your favorite parts of the city?"

"I'd love to."

*break*

There was a peaceful silence between Mathew and Gilbert as they walked through Ireland Park. Gilbert gazed at the realistic faces on one of the park's many statues, appreciating the haunting beauty of it with part of his mind. After having seen so many battlefields, he had learned to appreciate what humans can create after seeing just how much they could destroy. It made him love the art that showed the human capacity for survival and perseverance. Gilbert wondered if Mathew shared his sentiments.

No matter how arresting the statues were against the backdrop of downtown Toronto, part of Gilbert's mind was spinning. His thoughts jumped between the idea that he had never really loved Roderich and figuring out a polite way to ask Mathew if he preferred fucking women or men. He hadn't really gotten far on either question.

First off, what did it mean if he hadn't really loved Roderich? Sure, Gilbert had noticed that the relationship between the two of them never looked like the one between Ludwig and Feliciano… or Kiku and Herakles… or, hell, Lovino and Antonio. Those couples always had an unspoken connection between them that made it clear to outsiders that they were together. Hell, Gilbert knew before his brother that Ludwig was in love with Feliciano… although that probably wasn't the best example (damn near half the world knew that they were together before Ludwig got it through his thick skull). Gilbert thought that he was more emotionally savvy than to be in a situation where he was unsure if he had loved someone for _centuries_. But if what he was beginning to feel for Mathew was anything like what love should be like, he had been sorely mistaken.

The realization threw his world on its side. His 'love' for Austria had been his one constant through centuries of change. With the surety of it gone, his understanding of the past seemed shaky.

Mathew began to stroll on through the park and Gilbert followed him, turning his mental eye on the Canadian. One thing he was sure about now was that he wanted to be more than friends with Mathew. _Maybe I should just focus on the present and future and move on from the past_, he thought. Because Roderich was his past and Mathew just might be his future. Now he just had a question to ask.

Mathew had noticed that Gilbert was deep in thought about something as he stared at the lamenting face of one statue a while ago. Mathew was never one to break silences, especially when it could interrupt the other person's thought processes. It had happened too many times to him when Alfred suddenly burst in his house for Mathew to dream of doing the same to Gilbert. He knew that Prussia had a lot to think about and was happy to let the man think. His mere presence was just enough to thrill Mathew. Whenever he had come to Ireland Park to get out of his house, he was alone. He had been resigned to his solitude and had almost come to peace with it. With Gilbert here, even when they weren't talking, it was enough for Mathew.

No matter how grateful Mathew was for Gilbert's company, the former nation posed a problem. Mathew was not oblivious to his own feelings. He knew that he stared at Gilbert in a way that no friend should. He knew that he was too emotionally attached to Gilbert's reactions and that, after some consideration, his reaction to the news of Gilbert's centuries' long fixation on Roderich was pure jealousy. (He even did admitted to himself that part of his anger towards Austria was that he rejected the man Mathew would thrilled to have as his own.) If the circumstances were different, he would be rejoicing that he _finally_ showed interest in someone. Okay, there was that momentary crush on Carlos, but that quickly died out because he kept mistaking Mathew for Alfred and if _that _wasn't a turn off…

But Gilbert was just coming from a major heartbreak. He wouldn't talk about his feelings but it was clear that what happened with Roderich was troubling. Hell, being told that you were worthless and better off dead by the object of your affection would be scarring for anyone. As it was, Mathew would be happy to find a way to help Gilbert through this difficult time, but was wary acting on his budding feelings. This was not the time for Gilbert to be going into a major a relationship. Mathew would just end up being used like a tissue to get Roderich out of Gilbert's system then would be thrown away without a thought, a constant reminder of what Gilbert went through. Mathew would end up alone again, after having tasted what friendship and an actual _romantic_ relationship was. He didn't know if he would be able to handle it. Of course, if Gilbert initiated something, Mathew didn't know if he would be able to say no. Loneliness had eaten at his being for too long and maybe having a small bit of happiness was better than never having it at all. And this was all assuming that Gilbert would even want him! It was all too confusing, but Mathew tried to make sense of it.

When Gilbert looked at Mathew, he saw that the man had gnawed his lip to the point of bleeding. "Birdie, stop!"

Mathew startled and looked at Gilbert in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, only to wince at the pain of his bottom lip. Finally tasting the copper of his own blood, Mathew touched a finger to his mouth and looked at the red stain on the digit when it was pulled back. Then he said, "Ow."

Gilbert was naturally alarmed. "Ow? That's all you have to say? Ow!" He looked around for a building for restrooms frantically, wanting to get some paper towels to stop the bleeding. Spotting one, he grabbed Mathew's hand and dragged the Canadian to the building at a quick pace without another word.

"I guess," Mathew mumbled. He licked his lip, coming away with only a little blood. The cut was a small one, nothing to really be alarmed about. Yet Gilbert was treating this like he had half bit his lip off. "Calm down, Gil. I'm okay."

Gilbert made a sound of disbelief as they reached the bathrooms. He sat Mathew down on a bench near the entrance and ran in to get a paper towel. He returned in less than thirty seconds. Crouching in front of Mathew, with more gentleness than the Canadian thought possible, Gilbert dabbed Mathew's lower lip. He had a look of great concentration on his face, like what he was doing was brain surgery instead of tending to a small cut. Then in a quiet, worried voice, he asked, "Birdie, what has so troubled that you didn't realize you bled yourself?"

Mathew looked into the so concerned crimson eyes in front of him and couldn't stop himself from asking, "Gil, which is worse: having been in paradise and lost it or never having seen it at all?"

"What brought this on?" Gilbert paused in his ministrations to search Mathew's eyes like they would have the answer, only to have the Canadian look down.

"Please answer my question."

Gilbert opened his mouth to demand that Mathew tell him what was wrong only to shut his mouth again. Mathew respected his privacy and comfort limits earlier that morning. Gilbert found that he could do no less, no matter how distressed he was with Mathew's behavior. So, Gilbert continued to doctor as best he could Mathew's lip and said, "From someone who had everything and then lost it, it's better to see paradise. Despite all the blood, sweat, and tears it took for me to reach my height, I wouldn't give up that time for anything. My power gave me the strength to do what I needed to give my brother the life he deserved. While I don't have much now, I'm happy that I took all those risks."

Mathew looked at Gilbert again, as if he was trying to assess the truth of his statement, only to find Gilbert's face open and honest. It was then that Gilbert continued. "But you know, Birdie, paradise doesn't always have to end." Mathew's lip had stopped bleeding so Gilbert got up to dispose of the towels. Mathew stared after him as he walked a few meters to the nearest trash bin. In that moment, he decided that if the occasion came up, he would take the chance on relationship with Gilbert. Even if it meant that he would lose everything later, he would at least try.

Gilbert turned back to Mathew just in time to see determination flash through those dark blue eyes. He didn't know what that meant but he walked back to the Canadian. Mathew stood up as Gilbert approached and said, "Sorry about that, Gil. I just was thinking too hard. Would you like to get some lunch now?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Mathew's quick change in demeanor but nodded. When Mathew turned in the direction of the parking lot and began to walk away, Gilbert grabbed his arm, halting him. "Birdie, don't want this to be a one sided thing. I'm here if you need to talk, okay? Always."

Mathew looked back at Gilbert and wanted to ask, _Do you really mean that? Always?_ But he just said, "Thanks, Gil. If I want to talk, you'll be the first to know, okay?"

_What's bothering you? Is it about the hockey game the other night? Is it about what happened last night? This morning? Can I help? Am I the problem? _These questions ran through Gilbert's mind in quick succession but Prussia just nodded and stepped back. "What did you have in mind?"

"Someplace that I think you will like."

*break*

"I think I love you."

Gilbert was appalled at himself. The sentence had just popped out as they left the microbrewery where they had had lunch. Gilbert was now full of good beer and food and it made him a little less careful than usual.

Mathew, however, just laughed it off, taking the statement as gratitude rather an actual confession. "I'm happy you liked the place."

Gilbert chuckled awkwardly to himself and said, "So! After that awesome lunch, what are we going to do now?"

"…How good are you with crowds?"

"…That's an odd question. I'm decent. I lose patience fast but I'm doing fine now." Gilbert gestured to the somewhat busy street scene before them. Toronto was a lively city and the foot traffic on a Sunday afternoon was no joke.

"This is nothing. I mean really big crowds."

"I'll be fine wherever we go. Where were you thinking?"

Mathew went to bite his lip only to wince as his teeth caught on his almost healed cut. (Nations healed fast but it wasn't instantaneous.) "Have you ever been to Niagara Falls?"

Gilbert's eyes got wide. "No, but I feel like that should be fixed. Immediately."

Mathew couldn't help laughing again. "Alright, alright. Calm yourself, we can go."

In a moment of childlike abandon, Gilbert fist pumped the air saying, "Awesome!"

Mathew just smiled. Seeing Gilbert so free with his excitement after this morning was just what he needed to get over the slump he felt in the park.

As Gilbert and Mathew headed back to the car, Gilbert asked a bunch questions about the Falls that Mathew happily answered with calm amusement. Right after Mathew warned Gilbert about American tourists (seriously, though, watch out!), he noticed that Gilbert's face had lost its excitement and had become more considering. As they got in Mathew's car, the Canadian asked, "Gil, is there something wrong?"

Gilbert had caught sight of a couple, two men, walking hand and hand down the street a moment before and it reminded him of the answer he still needed from Mathew. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he finally began, "Hey, Birdie?"

"Yes?"

"What's your stance on homosexuality?"

Mathew decided that he would have to check himself later for whiplash, the topic changed so fast. "Where is this coming from?"

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I just saw a couple walking past and remembered your lack of response to me telling you I like guys last night. It kind of stuck in my mind so I thought I would ask."

"Well, my country recognizes same-sex marriages. Personally, I never really felt attracted to people. There was only one time I was interested in someone else and he was a man. So I'm pretty sure I like guys too. Of course I'm okay with your liking men."

_I see…_Gilbert thought with a suspicious tone in his head. A smirk appeared quickly on Gilbert's lips and he looked out the corner of his eye at Mathew. "Awesome. Now that that's out the way, mind sharing who this mystery guy is?"

Mathew flushed with embarrassment as he started the car. "It's kind of embarrassing."

"You don't have to tell me."

Mathew thought about everything that Gilbert had shared with him that morning and sighed. "Carlos. I got over my… crush fast enough since he kept calling me Alfred and beating me up, but it existed."

"Carlos?" This came out confused.

"Cuba."

"Carlos?" This came out incredulous. "He beat you up and you still liked him? Why him?"

Mathew's face burned so much that his eyes were starting to water. His snippy side decided to make an appearance to save the day.

"You live in a glass house, mister. Roderich, really? A stuck-up musician who obviously can't appreciate what's in front of him? Really? You have no room to throw stones." Immidately after he stopped talking, Mathew balked at his words. _Oh, shit_, he thought. _It's probably way too soon to be joking about it._

Gilbert surprised him by teasing in kind. "At least Roderich didn't actually beat me up! And, come on, Birdie, if he couldn't tell the difference between you and your idiot brother then he clearly didn't deserve you, anyway."

"Let's just say that we both have bad taste and move on, eh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Birdie. In fact, I think my taste only improves with age." Mathew looked over at Gilbert as they stopped at a traffic signal. The Prussian's gaze was intense and on Mathew as he said that last sentence. Mathew flushed again and it was only partially from embarrassment.

Huffing a little to himself, Mathew tried to play it off. "What are you now, a fine wine?"

"Maaaybe…"

Mathew laughed and the moment passed but Gilbert made a note of it as they chatted on the way to the Falls. Mathew's professed attraction to men and clear reaction to him made Gilbert feel safe to declare a mental 'open season' on Mathew Williams. Mathew was being hunted; he just didn't know it yet.

A/N: Sorry it's so short. This week is hell.

Okay, so I feel like I'm rushing them but the story needs to move along. Can someone please let me know if they like the pace of the romance? I have one opinion from a lovely reviewer but I would like others on this issue.

Speaking of reviews: Sir/Miss Guest, why are you so anonymous? XD Thanks for the reviews though!

Song: "White Flag" by the Romanovs. On with the hunt!

Next up: A trip to Niagara Falls. And picking up where Feliciano left off.

Until Next Monday (If I survive this week…Wish me luck!)

darkhuntress13


	15. Ch 14: Feliciano's Idea

After 3 weeks away, I still don't own Hetalia…

Hello everyone. I'm baaaaaaack… kinda. See author's note below… Now to the chapter!

Chapter 14: Feliciano's Idea

"…You know, mi amor, there are ways of gaining revenge that do not involve your gun."

Ludwig looked sharply at his lover, confused as all get out. He wasn't used to Feliciano being as perceptive as he had been for the last minute or so, but the cold animosity in his voice was something that Ludwig had never seen before. It worried him greatly. "…Feliciano?"

"Ve~ yes, Luddy?" The blank look returned to Italy's face in an instant. The wonderful gold of his irises were once again barely visible as his lips turned up in a smile that always was on his face when he was normally talking to the German. It was a far cry from his serious expression not seconds ago and Ludwig was highly concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be okay?" Feliciano jumped up and gave Ludwig a peck on the cheek before turning back to the bed. It was before noon and therefore he felt like he had no need to be awake. _Revenge is a lot of work_, Feliciano thought. _I'm gonna need all the rest I can get!_

"Well you just seemed… unlike yourself for a moment, that's all," Ludwig said as he watched Feliciano climb back into bed, his gaze automatically drawn to the curl on Feliciano's head that bounced with his every movement and then to the long path of bare leg that peeked out from under the dress shirt that Feliciano wore to bed. Ludwig blushed and suddenly felt the need to be somewhere else. "Well, if you're feeling fine…"

Ludwig turned to leave the room abruptly, almost reaching the door when he heard Feliciano call out, "Luddy, you still have your gun."

Ludwig looked down at his hand to see the weapon clutched in his palm. He had honestly forgotten that it was there… or maybe that was just a Freudian slip. "Ah, yes, I-"

Feliciano pouted, "Luddy! I thought I told you that there were other ways to go about things!"

Slightly embarrassed and still filled with the need to avenge his brother, Ludwig snapped, "Like what, Feliciano?" He instantly regretted his actions when there were instant tears at the corners of the Italian's eyes. Sighing, Ludwig walked quickly towards the bed, set the gun on the nightstand and hugged the smaller man to him. "I'm sorry, Feli. I'm just a little upset over what happened. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Feliciano looked at Ludwig's face and smiled a little before hugging the blonde back. "Ve~ you called me Feli." Ludwig instantly flushed but Feliciano continued talking. "I want to help, too, Luddy. Gilbert's like a brother to me and no one is allowed to hurt him and just get away with it! Why don't you tell me what happened after I get up and we can figure it out together, hm?"

Ludwig was still a little unconvinced that Feliciano would be able to help him and the Italian noticed his hesitation. Feliciano reached up to touch his face and said, "I know you don't remember much before the 19th century, Luddy-"

"I remember you… a little."

Feliciano smiled briefly, "Ve~ you were so cute back then Luddy! You would always watch me clean in your scary way and then try to leave me yucky food and- oh, I was trying to say something before. What was I saying?"

Ludwig's lips twitched. He was torn between exasperation and smiling at Feliciano's ability to be utterly adorable. "Something about me not remembering-"

"Oh, right! What would I do without you? Anyway, you don't remember but I used to hold a trading monopoly on the Mediterranean Sea. I held on to my empire for hundreds of years and I didn't do it by not being cunning. The Venetians and Genoese were not known for their kindness, Luddy. I think almost everyone has forgotten that." Feliciano moved to straddle Ludwig, resting on his knees so he could look directly into his eyes. "I can help Ludwig."

At Ludwig's silent nod (he was wondering in the back of his mind where _this_ Feliciano was during the War but let it go), Feliciano moved to lie back down on the bed. Once he was settled, he looked up from his cocoon of covers. "Ve~ are you gonna come back to bed too, Luddy? I would love the company."

Blushing yet again, Ludwig rose awkwardly from his seated position and cleared his throat. "Ah, I should go back to work."

"Aaaw!" Feliciano pouted then smiled again. "It's okay, I guess. The more you do now the more time we'll have for revenge! But are you sure you don't want to-"

"Sleep well, Feliciano."

Ludwig rushed out of the room with a red face, leaving a slightly disappointed Italian and his handgun behind. They would be waiting for him when he came back.

*break*

Ludwig paused in his paperwork to listen to Feliciano putter around the kitchen. He was singing some Italian song and the language was lost on Ludwig even after decades of being all but married to Italy. He smiled at the sound of the tune, knowing that it meant that he was having some kind of pasta in pesto sauce and wrust for lunch. Ludwig didn't think that Feliciano was aware of how his songs always reflected the meal he was cooking but Ludwig was. It was just another one of Feliciano's a million little quirks that he had grown to love over the years. He knew every song by heart even though he couldn't understand a word of it.

There was the tale-tell sound of something shattering and Ludwig was running across the room before his mind caught up with his body. The last time that Feliciano had tried to clean up glass he had gotten distracted by the still-cooking pasta and cut himself on the shards. Ludwig would be damned if he let that happen again.

"Are you okay? Don't touch the glass!"

"I'm okay, Luddy! See look, I am even using the broom this time like you told me to do last time. No worries, si?"

Ludwig still ran his eyes over the other man, alarm growing when he noticed the other's bare feet. Ludwig was wearing shoes so he felt absolutely no hesitation in striding over the Italian and picking him up. As Ludwig walked out of the kitchen with his man, Feliciano giggled and said, "Yay! Luddy's carrying me!"

Ludwig sighed to himself as Feliciano began kicking his feet and wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck. "You could have cut your feet on the glass, Feliciano. Where are your house shoes?"

"Uh… upstairs!"

"… Why are they upstairs?"

"Because wearing them is such a pain! I like being barefoot, Luddy. And I always feel like I'm going to slip down the stairs walking in them…"

Ludwig couldn't contain his shudder at the thought of Feliciano falling down the stairs. Since the man was so clumsy, the situation was probable… _Maybe I should get him a pair for downstairs specifically_, thought Ludwig, not grasping the fact that Feliciano would most likely not wear them anyway.

Ludwig set Feliciano down in the chair in the living and briefly looked over the other's feet. Assured that he really was not injured, Ludwig said, "Stay here. I'll go clean up the glass."

"But Luddy! The pasta's ready now…"

Ludwig shook his head a little and, knowing that ruined pasta would spoil the other's mood for hours, said, "I'll plate the pasta so it doesn't burn, alright? Now go on to the dining room. I'll be out in a second with the food."

Without waiting for an answer, Ludwig marched to the kitchen and forced himself to see past the mess on the counters and floor (which really wasn't that much of a mess at all, but it was bothering Ludwig) to put the food on the plates in an orderly fashion. That done, he went to the dining room, balancing the plates, silverware, and glasses of water (already poured by Feliciano) with practiced ease. Feliciano was already waiting and smiled at the sight the German made. "You're so talented, Luddy!"

Ludwig blushed and began eating his food as soon as possible just to be doing something. So when Feliciano said, "Now what did Mr. Austria do to Gilbert?" Ludwig choked just a little on his ravioli.

Feliciano frowned as his lover coughed and then quickly drank some water. He was going to start panicking when Ludwig just kept drinking water, only to be stopped by Ludwig saying roughly, "You know that Gilbert loves Roderich, right?"

"Ve~ si. I noticed the way that Gilbert looked at Roderich back in the '40s. Why do you…" Feliciano trailed off as his eyes widened. "What happened?"

"From what I understand, Gilbert more or less told Roderich that he loved him. If Roderich had only rejected him in a more normal way I wouldn't be this angry but he…" Feliciano waited for Ludwig to finish, his mind imagining the worst. "He tried to physically harm Gilbert then told him that he wished Gilbert was dead. That mein bruder wasn't good enough for him." Ludwig clinched his fists as his ire rose again.

Feliciano reached across the table to touch Ludwig's hand in an attempt to calm the man. Ludwig looked into Feliciano's eyes and said, "I wish you would have let me shoot him."

Feliciano's mouth quirked into a lopsided smile and he was silent for a second, thinking. Then, he went back to eating his pasta. "Don't worry, Luddy. Mr. Austria will get what he deserves soon enough. I know just what he needs: a taste of his own medicine."

Ludwig was surprised, "But how…?"

"Growing up in Mr. Austria's house left me some… insights to the man. I'll have to check something with Ms. Hungary first but I think I'm right about this…"

"What are you right about?" Ludwig was beginning to feel slow and he really didn't like it.

"Mr. Austria's in love with someone else, Luddy. If he didn't say those mean things to Gilbert I would have just let this go and tried to give Gilbert some hug therapy but as it is… Ve~ Luddy? When's the next world meeting?"

"In about two weeks. Why?"

"Well, if Mr. Austria doesn't apologize to Gilbert in the next two weeks, and it is not likely that he will, we'll make him wish that he never said such things to our brother, si?" A dark light flashed through Feliciano's eyes for a second but then vanished as the Italian when back to his normal squinty-eyed expression. "Ve~ did you like lunch, Luddy?"

A/N: This is the shortest chapter I've written so far. Sorry... I didn't plan my timing well since it's the beginning of finals' week…

Anyway, next week's will be longer and about the Niagara Falls trip and maybe Feliciano's call to Hungary.

Song: "You're Gonna Go Far Kid" by the Offspring

I'm going to sleep now.

darkhuntress13


	16. Ch 15: On Spontaneity

I don't own Hetalia but I wish I did.

Chapter 15: On Spontaneity

About 30 minutes into the drive down Queen Elizabeth Way, Mathew was starting to have second thoughts about making the trip to Niagara today.

Sure, he was the one who suggested it, but not only did Mathew fail to show Gilbert more sights of Toronto, but it was an hour and twenty minute drive to the falls. Yes, it was only about 13:00 but that didn't mean that the traffic wouldn't be something to see when they returned. He knew that all those couples and families who spent the weekend at Niagara would be pushing their way back home by late afternoon and would clog up the freeway. While Mathew appreciated the boost of tourism for the economy, he did not appreciate the traffic jams that came with it. On top of the site's pure distance from his home, Mathew did not think to grab a change of clothes for neither Gilbert nor himself before just heading in this direction. Knowing his companion, Mathew was betting that the albino would appreciate dinner in Niagara-on-the-Lake but would be ecstatic to get on the Whirlpool Jet Boat. To do that, Mathew knew from experience, they would need _something_ to change in to unless they liked walking around soaked. And Lord help him if Gilbert got wind of the skydiving. Mathew was fine jumping out of air transportation… as long as there was something close and visible to land onto like a snowcapped mountain top. But just freefalling with only a trumped up grocery bag between him and pain was not his idea of a good time. He had never been skydiving and wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon.

Mathew also worried over Gilbert's emotional wellbeing. There would be a lot of lovey-dovey couples where they were going, especially in town. He didn't want to make Gilbert uncomfortable by throwing in his face everything that he could have had with Roderich… then again that would probably make Mathew uncomfortable, too. Mathew winced at the thought. Today was supposed to be fun and he might have just planned something that would make his guest, no – friend squirm.

"Uh… Birdie?"

Mathew startled, coming out of his daze. Thank goodness he knew his roadways like the back of his hand, otherwise something horrible could have happened. "Sorry, Gil, what was that?"

"Nothing really but are you alright? You look troubled."

Mathew ran a hand through his hair and said, "I just realized that I forgot to stop home so that we could grab a change of clothes. There's something that I know that you will love to see and it requires something to change into afterwards. There's actually a lot to do and see and I have no idea how we're going to get to everything today. Under usual circumstances I wouldn't worry so much and would just say that we could come back another day but I have no idea when…" _when you'll leave and won't come back_ "when we will be able to come back this way and then to top it off there will be a lot of couples and I don't want to make you uncomfortable plus- "

Gilbert halted Mathew with a hand on his shoulder. Mathew hazarded a glance his way only to see the other's eyes sparking with amusement. It almost made his crimson eyes glow, that look. Mathew swallowed hard and focused on the road again. "First of all, Birdie, calm down. I've never seen you ramble like this so something is bothering you way too much for my comfort. Just breathe for a second, alright?" Mathew nodded so Gilbert continued. "Second, we have all the time in the world to do stuff. Even if we don't get to everything today we have until your vacation ends to do whatever we want, right?" Another nod. "So don't stress about the time. Third, if you really think that we need a change of clothes we can just stop somewhere and pick up something inexpensive. It's no big deal. Today's supposed to be a happy day, ja?"

Mathew sighed, calmer. "I know but I just wished that I had thought this out a little more."

"There's nothing wrong with a little spontaneity. Sure, things don't go as planned, if there's any planning involved at all, but that often turns out to be the most awesome part."

"…If you say so, Gil."

"Kesesese, Birdie, I know so. Why don't you let me do the 'planning' once we get there?"

"But you don't know what's there!"

"I know! That's the best part. It will be completely spur of the moment and you'll love it."

"I'm not sure…"

"Look, the only thing that my long life has taught me, especially the last half century or so, is that you have to live in the moment. I know you're young but this is something that you should learn before shit happens and suddenly the world is on its side. It took me centuries but I truly understand that now. Let me show you what it's like. If you don't have the best time of your life, then I won't stop you from making plans in the future. Trust me, okay?"

Mathew really wanted to look at Gilbert, to see the look in his eyes as he talked, but he kept his eyes on the road, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. There was a certain logic to what Prussia was saying but Canada wasn't quite comfortable with the idea. His life was quiet and filled with work, solitude and rare pleasures like skiing and the winter Olympics that made everything else in between worth it. There wasn't a lot of room for spontaneity in his life, or so Mathew thought. Maybe it was time to change that. He'd trust Gilbert with this and pray that he made the right decision.

"Alright, Gil, you win… but we are picking up another set of clothes. We are planning ahead this much because I fail to see how walking around freezing our butts off in search of a (probably expensive) clothing store is fun."

Gilbert gave him a grin that Mathew could tell was of the shit-eating variety from the corner of his eye. "Sure, whatever you say."

"Somehow, I doubt that you mean that."

A/N: Finals should be renamed to Brain Drains! My goodness I can barely think from the mental strain of last week and the physical strain of getting ready to move over the weekend. Please forgive my brevity with this chapter. My head is pounding from writing this much. I hope that its not utter crap. Oh, well.

After I sleep for about 12 hours, I'll get working on the rest of the trip as well as some Europe stuff. Also, I have this idea in my head for a dark!SpainxRomano fic. Anyone interested?

Song: "Don't Worry Be Happy" by Bobby McFerrin because I could not resist.

Sorry, don't shoot me! XD

darkhuntres13


	17. Ch 16: An Accident

I don't own anything (except the plot and myself). Seriously.

I tried to make this trip as realistic as possible without having actually been to Niagara Falls. If I'm completely off, sorry and remember I don't own anything. Now, enjoy!

Chapter 16: An Accident

Mathew leaned against the black guard rail and took in the sight of tons of water rushing over the cliff. Against the backdrop of the multiple colors of the leaves, the view from Table Rock Welcome Center was breathtaking. While fall was never his favorite season, Mathew couldn't help but be awed at the simple beauty of Horseshoe Falls in the autumn. He couldn't recall how many times he had seen it in his long life but it never failed to make him pause for a moment and say 'Wow.'

Mathew turned around and looked at the scene behind him. As expected, there was a decent crowd for a late September Sunday afternoon. Families with small children, couples with the passion of youth and those with the quiet devotion of shared decades, giggling clumps of friends and a group of small children being wrangled by their stressed teachers… all manners of people milled about and interacted with each other over the roar of the nearby waterfall. Mathew smiled slightly as a sense of peace filled him. He could get comfortable and people watch for hours, enjoying the day in solitude, but something better awaited him.

Mathew looked at his watch and sighed. Gilbert had been gone for twenty minutes already. The albino had insisted on going into the welcome center alone so that he could pick what they were doing in secret, stating that he wanted everything to be a surprise. Mathew had pointed out that, since this _was_ part of the county he was the personification of, nothing Gilbert planned at Niagara would come as a complete surprise to him but Gilbert just waved him away. After informing Gilbert where he would be, Mathew separated from his friend and found himself at the edge of this cliff.

Now Mathew was starting to worry as his eyes scanned the crowds for a flash of characteristic silver hair. He found several examples only to be subsequently disappointed when they were all attached to older visitors…well, people who looked older. Mathew began to fret that Gilbert had gotten lost only to immediately discard the thought. It was far more likely that he got distracted in the candy store inside than to have gotten lost in the crowd. Resigned to his fate to wait, Mathew turned his back on the humans behind him and got lost in nature.

Gilbert, meanwhile, was sitting in a crowded food court and was having a hell of a time figuring out what to do, He wanted this day to be fun and spontaneous but he couldn't help wanting to plan out the day a little. He wanted to go this one restaurant for dinner but then he would have to make reservations and that would go against everything that he said to Mathew in the car. On top of everything, many of the attractions had planned schedules that required planning ahead to attend. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and stared intently at the brochures in front of him, willing the answer to jump out and hit him over the head.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a woman leading a small child away from him, looking over her shoulder at the former nation in apprehension. Gilbert sighed, remembering that he was in public and just how frightening many people found his appearance. He closed his eyes tightly and fought off the sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't need more confirmation that he was a freak.

Opening his eyes again, Gilbert picked up a map of the area in front of him and studied it yet again. An advertisement caught his eye just beyond the map and he studied it, smiling slightly. _This will do._

As he made his purchases and was handed two bright yellow ponchos, something small captured Gilbert's attention. Smirking, he said, "I'll take two of those, please."

This was going to be awesome.

*break*

Fully prepared, Gilbert walked towards the area where Mathew indicated that he would be. He wasn't intentionally sneaking up on the Canadian as he walked through the small crush of people but Mathew seemed completely unaware of Gilbert's presence when he arrived behind him. In that instant, Gilbert was struck by just how perfectly Mathew fit in with the backdrop of fall leaves and rushing water. He raised his recently bought disposable camera to his eye and snapped a picture after a moment. Gilbert immediately felt like a creeper and decided to announce his presence.

"The Awesome Me has returned!"

Mathew let out his startled 'eep' noise and was grateful falls' proximity. The roar of the water swallowed the embarrassing noise. "For Pete's sake, Gil! You startled me."

Gilbert couldn't really hear Mathew over the water but he could read facial expressions well enough. "Sorry, Birdie I didn't mean to scare you. If it makes you feel better I come baring gifts!" Gilbert held out the florescent yellow poncho and disposable camera.

Mathew narrowed his eyes suspiciously but huffed and took the offered goods. "Thank you."

"No problem! Give me a second…" Gilbert turned the little dial on his camera and pointed it at his friend. "Smile!"

Mathew looked over his glasses at his friend in irritation only to have his facial expression captured on film with a quiet click only audible to Gilbert. Gilbert gave Mathew his most innocent smile before taking the other's hand and led him away from the edge. Mathew followed, stumbling. His ire and embarrassment grew as he was all but dragged towards the welcome center. When Gilbert finally stopped and turned around, he found himself attached to one snippy Canadian.

"I am not a ragdoll to be dragged around, Gilbert!"

Gilbert had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry, Birdie. I just wanted to be able to hear you, that's all. I couldn't hear you over the Falls."

Mathew found it difficult to remain angry with that explanation. It was nice for someone to go out of their way to hear him. It didn't lessen his embarrassment, however. "Next time, could you please just let me know when you want us to move somewhere? I'm not sure if you noticed but we got a couple of stares on the way over here. Not that I mind if people stare at us but it's a little uncomfortable when you're being manhandled."

Gilbert winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Will do."

Mathew shook it off and decided to move on. "So what are we doing?"

"Well, I got this thing called an adventure pass so we can do the stuff here first and then head over to the other activities that are included."

Mathew frowned, wishing that he had kept more up to date with all of the packages offered at Niagara Falls. "What's included in the package?"

Gilbert's eyes grew wide and excited as he realized that today really was going to be filled with surprises for his friend. "What happened with not being surprised?" Gilbert teased.

"I'll probably know exactly what we're doing if you just told me what's included..."

"Nope! I rather just show you. If you would please follow me…"

Mathew rolled his eyes and followed the retreating back of his friend. "You are getting far too much enjoyment out of me not knowing what we're doing."

"Surprising people is one of my favorite things, Birdie!" Gilbert flashed a mischievous smile over his shoulder and re-entered the welcome center.

Mathew could only shake his head and wonder once again what he signed himself up for as he followed Gilbert inside.

*break*

As the final scenes showing the creation of Niagara Fall's finished, Gilbert could feel that his eyes were approximately the size of dinner plates. He didn't know what to expect when the cartoon of little creatures started but second part of Niagara's Fury (A/N that's the name of the attraction… which I don't own!) was awesome. He hadn't seen any 4D stuff before but he definitely had to do something like this again. He looked at Mathew only to see the other staring at him with a good deal of amusement in his eyes.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes playfully and began to say, "Just what about me is so funny?" but only managed to get the first word until he was knocked into forcefully from behind.

Gilbert faintly heard a, "Oh, sorry, dude!" as he tried to catch himself as he fell. Unfortunately, his foot got caught on one of handrails people used to grasp during the main event. He fell towards Mathew and just before his hands grabbing Mathew's handle would stabilize him, Gilbert felt his lips touch something soft. It was a split second to realize that Mathew's lips literally broke his fall. He jerked back, eyes wide, and, in that moment, all he could think was, _Oh, shit._

A/N: Hey everyone. My computer is back and functioning. Sorry that the end is a little clichéd. I just couldn't help but use it. XD It makes sense because they are basically the same height but Gil's a little taller and it just plays out so well in my mind…

I know that this is a little short but I'm planning on posting the rest of the day before Monday so don't kill me, alright?

Song: Fallin' for You by Colbie Caillat or any other "falling" song really XD. I know it doesn't fit exactly but it will do for now.

I'm now officially late for ESRP… see you soon (not really but you get the point)

darkhuntress13


	18. Ch 17: Bet on It

I. Own. Nothing.

If you have questions for me, check the author's note. I might have answered them. =)

Chapter 17: Bet on It

This is not the way things were supposed to happen.

Gilbert, in the back of his mind, had been working on a plan to woo and win Mathew. Nothing was concrete, but he knew that making a move on him _the day he told Mathew he had been in love (maybe) with Roderich for centuries_ was not the way to go. Their first kiss was supposed to be after some serious sexual tension had pervaded a very solid friendship not as an accident on an unofficial date if he could even call it that! And Mathew sure as hell was not supposed to be doubled over with laughter after kissing Gilbert.

_Why does nothing turn out the way I want anymore?_ Gilbert thought.

*mini-flashback (two minutes ago)*

Mathew didn't have time to react to the sudden reality of Gilbert kissing him. One moment he was getting great enjoyment out of teasing the albino and then the next thing he knew was startled ruby eyes that were way too close and a near jolting pressure on his mouth. The pressure quickly changed from pain to startling pleasure to non-existent as Gilbert steadied himself, realized what happened and threw himself backwards, almost tripping again.

The two nations stared at each other for what seemed like an infinite moment in shared surprise when a brass voice asked, "Hey, are you two alright? Man, I totally didn't see you there!"

Mathew quickly gathered himself and assessed the situation. A, clearly American by the accent, teenager was apologizing for something, presumably knocking into Gilbert and causing the present situation. Suddenly everything made sense.

Gilbert looked a little shell shocked so Mathew said, "It's quite alright. We are both fine, but thank you for your concern."

"If you're sure…"

"Yes," Mathew smiled at the young man who was beginning to get harassed by his friends for taking so long.

"Alright! Sorry and have a good day!" The boy hurried off and Mathew turned back to a still comically frozen Gilbert.

"Birdie? I'm sor-"

Mathew burst out laughing.

Gilbert, startled, began, "Er-"

Mathew just kept laughing and waved Gilbert to follow him to exit the room. No need to hold up other people from seeing the show just because he was laughing uncontrollably.

*end mini-flashback*

"Um, I don't know what's so funny but I'm sorry for what just happened. I'm not usually so clumsy and-"

"Yes you are," Mathew said, gaining a measure of control on himself.

"Was?" (What?)

"Clumsy, in the kitchen at least."

A blush appeared on Gilbert's face. "Uh…"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Mathew smiled widely at Gilbert and patted the other man's shoulder. "Calm down. I know it was an accident. I warned you about American tourists, didn't I? You should have seen your face." Mathew chuckled again. "It was one kiss and barely even one at that. So there's no need to be sorry, okay?"

Gilbert nodded, still looking embarrassed.

_Why is he so adorable?_ Mathew thought but kept to himself. No need to embarrass the man further by telling him how blushing makes him more cute than handsome. "So, where are we headed to next?"

Gilbert cleared his throat and said, "Well, there's one more thing to do here then we have to go somewhere else."

"…I really wish you would just tell me…"

Gilbert smirked, finally getting over what just happened enough to smirk at the other man. "Now, Birdie, what would be the fun in that?"

*break*

Mathew was trying really hard not to laugh at how Gilbert looked yet again… but was a struggle. Raising his camera to his face, Mathew shouted to be heard over the falls, "Hey, Gil?" When Gilbert turned away from the falls to look at Mathew curiously, the Canadian continued, "Say, 'cheese!'" Mathew brought his finger down on the button as obviously as possible as he snapped a picture.

Gilbert frowned beneath his florescent yellow poncho and said, "Aw, come on, Birdie!"

"Turnabout is fair play!"

"But I look ridiculous in this poncho! You were not wearing this when I took those surprise pictures!"

Mathew would be the first to admit that Gilbert with his pale coloring did look horrible in the florescent yellow poncho but something else caught his attention. "What do you mean, _pictures_?"

"Oops."

"You took more than one?!"

"It was a good picture! You just weren't aware that it was being taken!"

Mathew narrowed his eyes. "You know what this means, right?"

"No, what?"

"This means war!"

"Uh… are you sure you want to do that? With me, a nation that used to live for conflict, who was born from it and thrived on it?"

"Yes!"

Gilbert smiled at Mathew's expression, more than a little thrilled that he was not afraid to challenge him after that warning. "Well, then."

"The person who gets the most pictures of the other person without them being visibly aware before dinner and starting now wins."

"What's the prize for winning?"

Mathew began walking towards the entrance of the tunnel and said, "The winner decides what we do for the next three days."

"You're on."

*break*

Elizabeta Héderváry paused in cooking herself lunch at the sound of the phone ringing. Deciding that the soup would keep itself for a few moments, she left to find the device. Picking it up, she answered, "Szia?" (Hello?)

"Ve~ ciao, Ms. Hungary!"

"Oh, Feliciano! I've told you to call me Elizabeta, dear."

"I know but I can't stop now! It's like you can't stop calling me, dear."

"I suppose you're right! Well, how are you, stranger? It's been a while since we last talked!"

"I know! I'm fine and Luddy's grumpy but that's okay. How have you been? How's Dmitri?"

Elizabeta chuckled a little. "We're both fine. Dmitri still refuses to get up before dusk, no matter how much I tell him that he is not a vampire, but I still love the idiot." She and Feliciano shared a laugh for a moment before Elizabeta continued, "Well, did you have a reason for calling or is this just to chat?"

"Well, Gilbert," (Elizabeta felt her eye twitch at the name), "has been spending a lot of time with Mr. Austria recently and I know Gilbert likes Mr. Austria but I thought that Mr. Austria loved Vash. I wanted to check with you since you seem to know these things…"

Elizabeta frowned as she checked her soup. Something wasn't quite right with what Feliciano was saying but she shrugged it off. She sighed into the phone. "Well, I know that Roderich had feelings for Vash years ago but I'm not sure about now. We haven't really been in touch recently. I'm not sure if Vash feels the same and spying on the man is always so dangerous! If Vash doesn't feel the same then this whole situation is simply a mess. I despise that Prussian bastard- no offense, dear, because I know you think of him as a brother- but I would never wish unrequited love on him. And, admittedly, Gilbert and Roderich would make an unbelievably cute couple, but I know for a fact that Roderich doesn't feel the same. And if Roderich does love Vash but Vash doesn't return the sentiment…" Elizabeta shook her head. "What a romantic mess."

"I agree."

An idea occurred to Hungary. "Maybe I should clean it up? It's been a while since I engaged in any mischief of this kind…Will you help me, Feli?"

"What?"

"Well, since at this point no one is happy romantically, why don't we try to make it work? I'm thinking that with a little information gathering and a little manipulation of all parties, together we could maybe get some people paired off! Hmmm, first I would have to find out if Vash likes Roderich and vice versa and then you could steer Gilbert in a different direction… I bet that if we work together we could clear up a lot of things! So, are you with me?"

"Ah-"

"Great! I'll get back to you as soon as I have more information! I'll just start with calling Lili and- oh, there is so much to do! Talk to you soon, dear!"

Elizabeta hung up without noticing that Feliciano had neither promised to help her nor bothering to figure out what was wrong with what he said. Those things flew out of her mind as she began to do her favorite kind of plotting. She sat down at the table, preparing herself to eat a full meal. Matchmaking was hungry work after all.

*break*

Feliciano stared at the phone in his hand. If he was his brother, he would say wholeheartedly, "What the fuck just happened?" But since he was the personification of North Italy, he just said, "Ve~ whaaaaa?"

"Is everything alright Feliciano?"

Feliciano frowned at Ludwig who was sitting not far away from him. They were in Ludwig's office and Feliciano was leaning on the desk a little while his partner was sitting behind it. "Well, that didn't go as expected but I think we will be able to work with these circumstances. It may even go in our favor…"

Ludwig froze as he recognized the tone in Feliciano's voice. He was way too serious, and, just like on the phone call, there was an alarming absence of Feliciano's signature verbal tick. It made him wonder if the tick was just for show. Ludwig wanted to ask but then it would throw their past 60 years together into question. If the tick was false, then how much of the man he fell in love with was false too?

"Ve~ Luddy? Are you alright? Is something wrong? Did you eat too much pasta for lunch?"

And now the Feliciano he knew was back. Could he so easily switch between personalities? This was extremely troubling and-

Feliciano abruptly grabbed Ludwig's face and kissed him. Ludwig's first reaction was to jerk away and Feliciano pulled back, close to crying. "Ve~ Luddy? Did I do something wrong? You were staring at me funny and then you pulled back from me…"

"Which is real?" It just came out and then it was too late for Ludwig to take it back.

"What?"

"Which one of you is real: this new, cunning Feliciano or the man I've been living with for damn near 60 years?"

"Both. Can't I be both?" Tears started to fall from Feliciano's eyes.

Ludwig hated to see the other cry but this is something he needed to know. "Then why hide it from me, Feliciano? I have never seen this side of you and I have consciously known you for almost a century. I've hidden nothing from you yet there is a whole side to you that I am just now seeing. How much don't I know about you?" _How much of our past is a lie?_

Feliciano was sobbing at this point, praying that this wasn't happening. "I was afraid you wouldn't like me this way-" sob "-because everyone hated mi fratello for being mean and-" sob "-liked me because I wasn't. I only-" sob "-wanted you to like me then that became me and I just wanted-" sob "-to help you with Mr. Austria and…" Feliciano looked at Ludwig with distraught, wide eyes. His sobs halted for a second as something hit him. He started to hyperventilate as fear began to take over.

Ludwig couldn't take it anymore. He got up from his chair and moved to take Feliciano in his arms to comfort him. He would never be able to describe the pain he felt when he saw his lover flinch away from him. He still proceeded to hold the Italian to try and calm him. "Shh. Breathe, Feliciano, breathe."

Feliciano clutched at Ludwig's shirt and shook for a while, too terrified of the answer to voice his question. But after a sometime of Ludwig stroking his back and trying to calm him, his breathing evened out and he found the courage to ask, "Do you not love me anymore?"

Ludwig went still once again, feeling like utter shit for making Feliciano doubt that he loved him. Unfortunately, Feliciano took it as confirmation and tried to leave Ludwig's arms, crying again and suddenly needing to be somewhere else. "Let me go, then! If you don't love me then I can't… I can't-"

"Of course I love you, you idiot! I wouldn't let you go for anything! How could you not know that by now?!" Ludwig was yelling and Feliciano stilled then tentatively turned back to face him.

"But you just-"

"If I hid something about myself from you for 100 years, you would be upset, too. But you would still love me, right?"

"Ve~ of course I would-"

"Then why the hell did you think it would be any different for me?"

"Because you just-"

Ludwig silenced him by sitting on the edge of his desk and tilting his chin up a little so that they were eye to eye. "I'm hurt that you didn't trust me enough to share every single part of your personality with me. It pains me to know that you thought that you having a bit of a darker side would make me leave you. But do you know what hurts the most right now, Feliciano? What kills me?" He paused while Feliciano tried to shake his head no. "That I apparently have not loved you enough, that I haven't been giving you what you needed to believe that I will love you forever. That even knowing all this, I can't let you go so that you could find someone who would love you better than I ever could. I need you but you don't need me." Tears shone in Ludwig's eyes but he held them back, like he always did. He held on to the illusion of strength because it was all he feared he had left.

Feliciano forcefully removed his chin from Ludwig's grasp. He reached up to touch Ludwig's cheek gently, then said, "Ve~ that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

Ludwig flinched like he had been slapped. "Was?" (What?)

"Silly Luddy, of course I need you! Saying I don't is like saying that pasta is horrible or that Russia isn't scary! It makes no sense!"

"Then why-"

Feliciano put his finger on Ludwig's mouth. "Nope! My turn to talk. I was afraid to show you that I could be mean because I always wanted you to love me and I knew that you loved the kind me but not the dark me. I have had this fear for as long as I've known you and you not loving me is one of my worst fears! It scares me more than being locked up with England and his cooking forever! You've been more than enough. Ve~ Luddy, you've been perfect and I never want you to feel differently again! Okay?"

Ludwig moved the Italian's had out the way and kissed him, letting a tear fall. Everything was clearly not okay, but it would be.

*break*

Mathew sat on a bench (sans yellow poncho; they left those in the car) and listened for a moment to the rushing water of the rapids not 10 meters in front of him. He was hyperaware of his surroundings, letting his gaze relax as he tried to catch any movements from the corner of his eyes. Gilbert had disappeared after their arrival to the White Water Walk and Mathew knew what that meant: he was being hunted by a man on a mission and a disposable camera. They had picked up more rolls of film before they left the welcome center so it was anyone's game.

Mathew was almost positive that he was winning. He had been to all of these attractions before so he was not as easily distracted as Gilbert who was both a new tourist and a competitor. A small smile touched Mathew's lips as he recalled what he had planned for when he won. There was movement out of the corner of his eye and he looked straight at Gilbert as the other's finger came down on the camera's button. "I see you, you know."

"Are you physic or something? Every time…"

"No, I'm just a bit more aware of my surroundings."

Gilbert moved to pout but Mathew rushed up to slam a hand over the other's mouth in a panic. "Don't do that here! Small children are present and they don't need to have the vision of an adorable yet demented demon seared into their brains, Gil! They are impressionable!"

Gilbert just widened his eye more as he secretly snapped a picture of Mathew from the camera at his side. _Awesome! _ "But Birdie…" Gilbert whined.

"No!"

The sound of giggling distracted them both as they saw two women walking past them, clearly a little tipsy but not drunk. One of them said, "You two are so cute together!"

Both Mathew and Gilbert blushed. "Was?" "What?"

Mathew saw his opportunity then hastily snapped a picture of Gilbert's cute embarrassed face from his side. _Success!_

The same one said, "You two are taking more pictures of each other than the scenery! And you're so cute when embarrassed, too!"

Mathew started, "But we're not-" at the exact same time that Gilbert said, "Wait, we're just-" The men stopped talking at the same time to let the other speak only to be granted with silence. The women giggled.

The second girl said, "You two enjoy your vacation!"

Mathew and Gilbert looked at each other for an awkward moment then laughed it off, both thinking something along the lines of: _too bad it's not true._

One of the women looked back at them and said to her friend, "I bet that if they're not together now they will be soon."

"Girl, please! I'm half drunk and I still know that betting against you would be foolish. Not that we would ever have a way of finding out but still. No bet."

*break*

"I'm out of film," Gilbert said to Mathew while they rode on the last Maid of the Mist boat for that day. It was pretty packed with everyone tying to fit in one last thing for the day before heading home. The two had snagged a good spot on the railing of the upper level but the limited amount of space meant that they were in close contact with each other. They were in the yellow ponchos again, but that didn't mean that they weren't aware of the contact.

Mathew looked at Gilbert. "I have a couple pictures left."

"Hmmm, I see." Gilbert said in a suspicious yet playful voice.

Mathew chuckled then frowned. "You know, I just realized that we won't have any pictures together."

"… If you use one of your left over pictures, we can count that one in your favor."

"…Are you sure?"

"Ja, of course! Can I see your camera? We might as well take it before we get too close to the falls and get all wet."

Mathew handed over the camera and Gilbert pulled him into a one armed hug as he held the camera up. "Smile."

Gilbert took the picture and turned to Mathew, releasing the other from the hug. They were frighteningly close and a moment tension stretched between them. How many of those moments they had within the past twenty-four hours, Mathew didn't know. He took the offered camera and something caught his eye.

The noise of the crowd rose but Gilbert didn't notice as Mathew seemed to reach for him. He stilled with apprehension which turned to confusion as Mathew raised his hood. Mathew said, "Turn around."

Gilbert did and he saw just how close the boat had gotten to the falls without him noticing. He blushed and was happy that Mathew couldn't see it. He watched the water crash into the rocks below but his mind was on the man behind him.

*break*

"Well?"

"Give me a second."

"How about now?"

"Gil…" Mathew warned.

Gilbert sighed and looked out at the falls, lit up in multiple colors. It was a beautiful sight but that still didn't mean that he wasn't completely consumed with the need to know who won their little competition. They had dropped off the photos at a place to get the film developed and had dinner together. It wasn't at the restaurant that Gilbert wanted to go to (he was serious about those reservations before) but Mathew led him to a smaller, less famous restaurant where they were able to get good food and not wait hours for a table. Now the sun had set and the photos were developed. Mathew was counting them, chuckling every now and then, and not letting Gilbert see them yet.

"Birdie-"

"I win. 26 to 20."

"Huh." Gilbert sat back. He trusted that Mathew wouldn't cheat on the count. "You win."

Mathew smiled at him widely. "I win."

"So, what are we doing tomorrow?"

Mathew's smile got wider. "I'm going to teach you how to play hockey."

A/N: Excuse me while I say: "Silly Luddy, Trix are for kids!" I'm done. (For everyone who does not recognize this American pop culture reference, please ignore your silly author. I'm not crazy, I promise. And I know that's just what a crazy person would say but… *sigh*)

Q&A with darkhuntress13 and questions she imagines that you all have:

Q: Where have you been?! A: Working three jobs. Please bear with me.

Q: Where the hell did that GerIta scene come from? A: No fucking clue. It evolved out of thin air. Y'all should know by now I don't plan this out. XD

Q: Who's Dmitri? A: Romania. I ship them with Hungary is not with Austria or Prussia. I actually ship them more than PruHun.

Q: Where the hell is the smut!? Why is this rated M if there is no smut? A: Good things come to those who wait. ;D Which is a bitchy answer but is better than the real one… (ahem, not quite sure)… There will be smut! Eventually. I just can't rush them and yeah…

Q: Do we get a prize for there being 100 reviews? A: Yes, indeed you do! You all will get to pick the next story I write! I'll post the poll once I get the 100th review (and how to post the poll!) and then you all can pick! The actual 100th reviewer gets virtual Mattie's pancakes and a shout-out in the next chapter's author's note.

Q: Do you appreciate all the love you have received from this story? A: More than you all will ever know. To everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed, I LOVE YOU GUYS!

Q: Any piece of advice for your readers? A: Yes. Watch out for American tourists.

Song: Alright I can't think of anything that fit this exactly so how about of this: "Broken" by Seether ft. Amy Lee for Ludwig and Feliciano. Okay I've been searching for other songs for an hour and I give up. XD

Until next time!

darkhuntress13


	19. Ch 18: A Little Pain

I don't own Hetalia.

Shout out to my 100th reviewer: BlackRoseGirl666. Thanks for all the love!

Chapter 18: A Little Pain

Gilbert didn't know what he was expecting when Mathew said that he was going to teach him how to play hockey, but he didn't expect it to _hurt_ so much.

His usually pale hands were red with cold as he gripped the side of the ice rink, trying his damnedest not to fall down and embarrass himself further. He was lucky that he stayed in shape over the past couple of years or he would have been flat on his back, passed out from exertion. And all he was learning to do was skate.

In a momentary lapse in judgment, Gilbert failed to explain to Mathew that he knew how to skate with _figure_ skates, not the rounded blades used by hockey players that he was now balancing on precariously. He didn't understand the difference until he moved to skate and fell flat on his face.

Gilbert's face flared red, not from the constant chill of the ice rink but for the memory of embarrassment. One foot on the ice and he had Mathew fussing over him like a mother hen. He was the Awesome Prussia, damn it! He didn't need to be mothered over, especially not by the man he was slowly trying to figure out how to seduce.

The memory washed over him and he saw the scene as if he were out of his body. Mathew, fully expecting Gilbert to be right behind him when they hit the ice, was in the middle of the rink when he looked back to see his friend struggling to right himself on the new, smooth ice. Concerned, Mathew rushed over and stopped in one of those brutal yet fluid motions that hockey players acquire after years of practice. Next to Mathew, Gilbert's unsteady rise from the ice and near spill once upright looked like a comedic routine. The Prussian winced at the thought.

Then, for the three hours following that incident, Mathew stuck to Gilbert's side, making sure that the former nation would not crack his head on the ice or break anything. At one point, Mathew skated backwards while holding a struggling Gilbert's hands just to get them around the rink in a timely manner.

It would have almost been better if Mathew had teased Gilbert or make fun of his lack of grace, but the snarky side of the Canadian was missing today. He had been so serious, so patient through it all that Gilbert was ashamed that he wasn't progressing faster. He was a nation and Prussia at that. Skating should have been no issue for him.

_Then again, _he thought, remembering a time long ago_, I always did have bad luck with ice._

After hours of practice skating, Gilbert could now make it around the rink at a decent clip without falling or losing his balance. While his legs burned and his back hurt, he remembered Mathew's face that first night when he said that hockey was a team sport and that he had no one to play with. Gilbert knew that he would not be in any condition to learn hockey until he got this basic skill down, so he gathered his energy, ignored the protest of his aching muscles and began skating again.

He would do at least this much for his Birdie. He had to.

*break*

Mathew looked at Gilbert skate around the rink and sighed to himself, feeling horrible. Hockey just came so naturally to him that he forgot that, having never seen hockey before meeting him, Gilbert probably had never learned to skate with hockey skates. Gilbert had waved off Mathew's concerns at the beginning of the day, but it was lunch time and the strain of Gilbert's efforts were clearly taking a toll. This was supposed to be fun or at least that was how Mathew imagined the day. _Perhaps I was just being selfish in my request_, he thought.

The idea of being able to play hockey with Gilbert was more appealing than Mathew cared to think about. Was it just the fact that he was possibly looking at a future without hockey games or the loneliness that still, even after nearly a week of having a companion, clung to him? Or was it some other reason, one that he didn't want to think too hard about and was solely focused on Gilbert?

Mathew shook his head and skated over to Gilbert, easily matching the other's pace. "Hey, Gil?"

Gilbert tried to slow down like Mathew taught him, but nearly fell and just skated over to the side, nearly crashing into the wall. Gilbert pursed his lips and looked at Mathew. "Hey, Birdie. What's up?"

Mathew bit his lip and said, "I'm a little hungry. Would you mind stopping for the day? I think that we've done enough for now."

"Ja, maybe that would be a good idea." Gilbert's body sagged in relief before his brain told him that it was a bad idea. He immediately straightened but Mathew still caught the action.

"Gil, how bad is it?"

"What are you-"

"No, don't dance around this issue. How much are you in pain right now?"

Gilbert didn't look Mathew in the eye when he said, "Nothing I can't handle. I just haven't used these muscles in a while, that's all."

"That was not the question, Gilbert! If it is so bad that you won't even tell me how much pain you are in, why would you push yourself to this point? For goodness sake, today was supposed to be fun, not torturous."

"Trust me, I've been on the receiving end of torture and this is like a day at the spa."

That stopped both Mathew and Gilbert for a second. "Gil—"

"Look, Birdie. I know how important hockey is to you. Just one look at your face when you talked about playing that first night was all I needed to know that you loved it. We're friends now and I want to help you do one of your favorite things in the world. After all that you have done for me, it's the least I can do."

"Gil, you don't have to push yourself to do this out of obligation. Just having a friend is enough for me."

Gilbert looked at Mathew, his eyes intense and drying sweat dotting his brow. "Can't I just want to do something for you?"

Mathew felt like all the air had left his lungs yet he still managed to squeeze out in a barely audible tone, "No one ever has before."

Gilbert looked at Mathew for a second in disbelief then straightened from the wall and skated as carefully as he could to the other man. Stopping in front of Mathew was a struggle so he gripped the other man's shoulders to steady himself. Gilbert didn't release Mathew when he said, looking straight into his eyes, "Well, then it about time that someone changed that. You're worth it."

The full effect of what Gilbert was saying hit Mathew with a shock that showed in his eyes. He never considered himself in a position to deserve anything from others. Sure he longed for affection and caring but never actually expected to get it. To have the man in front of him say something like this after centuries of near solitude, after Gilbert had so recently experienced heartbreak, was profound to Mathew. He was at a loss for words. "Gil…"

Gilbert realized that this moment had become heavier than was needed at this early stage in their relationship, but he couldn't take back what he said. It was honesty and he could give no less. However, he needed to lighten this mood. Smirking softly, Gilbert said, "I also couldn't wimp out on a bet. A win is a win, Birdie, and I always pay up. Now let's go get something to eat."

Mathew recognized the distraction technique and went with the flow, but Gilbert's words and the earnest look in his eyes stayed with him for throughout lunch and would haunt him for the rest of the day.

A/N: Hey, guys. Sorry this is so short. I'm tired and when I'm tired I have the attention span of a gnat. This is not what I had planned in mind for this chapter but when I start writing the stuff just starts flowing out, you know.

Okay, so as of now the timelines for both Europe and Canada are on track. Next chapter will be solely European. And should be out next Monday or so. I'm slowly getting my shit together so I should be able to update more frequently. Sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth there. But I'm back.

Song: "A Little Pain" by Olivia

See ya!

darkhuntress13

PS This was done by 11:58 pm my time so technically that's on time right? XD


	20. Announcement

Hello everyone,

First of all let me say: Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to let this break go on so long. I said in my last chapter that I was getting my shit together. Unfortunately, almost immediately after my shit hit the fan. I've been cleaning it up ever since.

Second: let me reassure you that this story is not on a purposeful hiatus and therefore will be continued as soon as I have the mental wherewithal to write a the story in the same light as previous chapters. Surprisingly, I think that when school starts again I may actually be able to update weekly or at least bi-weekly again. So much for a summer vacation.

Third: As an apology for being such an uncommunicative douche-bag, I want to reward my readers with for staying loyal through all my crap. So either send me a pm for a one shot you would like from me or leave a note in the review section. If I find myself able to come up with a story for it, I will start writing as soon as August 13. These one shots will not effect Transparency or the DarkSpamano story I'm prepared to write. I'll let you know right off the bat if I can write the pairing or not (there are some ships that I just can't bring myself to ship, unfortunately).

Fourth: I did mention I was sorry, right?

I'll be back as soon as I can.

Sincerely,

darkhuntress13


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